The weekenders
by Marjorie Nescio
Summary: The Queen is looking forward to spending the weekend with a friend. She tells Joseph that she does not need any guards to come with her: she wants some privacy... Joe is not pleased. Will he give in?
1. Who the hell is B?

The principal characters (which are the only ones I will use) are not mine, they belong to Meg Cabot and Disney.

This story takes place before PD1. Please imagine that King Rupert died several years before his heir Philippe (who is alive when this story takes place) and that the law ´thou shallt be married before thy coronation´ applies to both princesses and princes (for that explains that Queen Clarisse still rules).

All characters are fictitious, even when based on real characters.

The weekenders

Chapter 1 – Who the hell is B?

Charlotte waited in the main entrance hall, ready to accompany Her Majesty to the University of Pyrus. Joe walked toward her and before he could ask, she said: ´She will be here soon, she had a call on her private line.´

´The prime minister?´ the Head of Security guessed.

´I doubt it.´

The Queen emerged, dressed in a black skirt and jacket, with a shawl the colour of her eyes. Joe thought she looked lovely, especially with that radiant smile on her face.

´Good morning Joseph,´ she greeted him, immediately addressing her secretary: ´Charlotte, could you reschedule my appointment with minister Villand for coming Saterday? Ask him if Saturday a week suits him.´

´I will do it ma'am. Did something urgent occur?´

´No, a friend asked me for a weekend's outing.´

She didn't elaborate, just continued smiling, while checking her bag.

Joe and Charlotte exchanged a glance.

´Majesty, regarding security, could you inform me about your plans in more detail?´

´There is no need for that Joseph. My friend has security and it is not very large where we are going, so if my security is to come along as well, we can forget about our privacy.´

Her skirt nicely accentuated her fine legs as she walked out of the Castle, leaving Joseph quite confused. Who was this friend with whom his Queen needed _privacy_?

OoOoOoO

Joe tried to find out more from Charlotte, but she insisted that she didn't know who the mysterious friend was. The only thing she'd heard, she hesitatingly revealed, was that the Queen had exclaimed ´B!´ after she picked up her phone.

_B._

_B?_

_Who the hell is B?_

He urged the Queen not to go unguarded, insisting that his men (and himself, but he didn't say that) would accompany her. She repeated the ´forget about our privacy´ nonsense.

The second time he entered the subject, she made it very clear that it was out of the question to have more guards accommodated in the house.

The third time he suggested that her security would take lodgings as near her holiday address as possible. She did not yield.

The fourth time (which was the next morning), she sighed and to his relief said: ´I will call my friend, so arrangements can be made.´

´Your friend B.´

She stared at him and slowly replied (a sign that she was not pleased): ´Indeed, my friend B.´

He glanced at the phone.

´As soon as you have left Joseph.´

He inclined his head and did her bidding, accidentally not closing the door. He had always wanted to know who had painted the portrait of Louis II, which hung next to the entrance to Her Majesty's office. He decided to search for the artist's name starting in the top left corner of the canvas.

While he was thus employed, he heard her dial a number. An international one, judging by its length.

´Hello B! Do you have a moment?´

_For you? Of course!_ Joe thought.

´No, I can still make it. I am looking forward to it tremendously.´

Joe didn't know what to think.

´Well, it is my Head of Security.´

He couldn't ignore the cold tone.

´He insists on me bringing guards.´

_Damn right I do. You figured that she might be more accessible without bodyguards didn't you B? _

Joe realised that the Queen's voice had sounded nearer by...

´He probably would come anyhow, spying... and being caught by your men.´

The door was closed.

Joe was at first insulted that she thought he could be caught by B's so called guards, when he realised he had been caught already, by her. He cursed and headed for the staff kitchen.

The guards near the entrance to the Queen's office exhanged a glance. One of them frowned his eyebrows, the other answered by shrugging his shoulders.

OoOoOoO

Joe sat down for lunch next to Charlotte, who was sitting conveniently near Her Majesty's second dress maid.

´Will you have the weekend off Charlotte?´

She nodded. ´So will you, won't you Joe?´

´No,´ he replied, unable to suppress a smirk.

´So you managed to convince her?´

He gave her a nod.

´What about you Rebecca, will you be joining Her Majesty on her trip?´

The dress maid blushed, pleased that the Head of Security knew her name.

´No sir, the Queen will take none of us with her.´

_I suppose ´B´ will be keen to help her unzip..._ Joe thought.

He used more force than needed to tear off a piece of bread.

´Have you packed her bags already?´

´Not yet sir, but the Queen told me what she needed.´

´Comfortable clothes I suppose?´

´Joe!´ Charlotte warned him.

´No evening gowns I mean,´ he said, looking at Charlotte.

´No sir, she does require dresses for dinner however and she will go riding.´

Ever since Joe had seen the Queen in regular riding gear, he felt there was something reassuringly romantic about a woman riding side-saddle, wearing voluminous skirts not revealing legs and derrière.

´I am happy for the Queen,´ Rebecca shared. ´She's really looking forward to it.´

After a small pause the maid asked Charlotte: ´Do you think it's a romantic date Miss?´

Joe drowned the piece of bread in his soup.

´No I don't,´ Charlotte replied, hoping her cheeks wouldn't turn red.

´Well,´ the cook, Mrs Danieli, contributed, ´I heard she's humming a lot.´

She raised her eyebrows a few times in case someone wouldn't get it.

Colonel Frerer, seated at another table, continued cleaning a pear even when she remarked: ´If _I_ had the prospect of a sudden holiday, I would hum as well.´ She looked up.

´Of course Colonel,´ Mrs Danieli hastily replied.

That evening the Queen informed Joseph that lodgings were arranged for four guards at a distance of 300 metres from the house where she and her friend would be staying.

OoOoOoO

In the few days toward Friday, when that blasted B was going to take Her Majesty away, the Head of Security grew very tense.

He asked the Queen about the particulars of the housing more than once, wanting to get hold of the floor plan of her residence and a map of the surroundings, wanting to find out the fastest way to the nearest hospital and many other things, but after she had given in to his initial wish, she didn't cooperate any further. He didn't even know _where_ she was going to ´relax´.

´It is somewhere in Spain,´ she had said, as if that was everything he needed to know.

He had never seen her so stubborn but _he_ wasn't willing to give in either, no matter how annoyed she grew.

On Thursday morning the Queen was on her way to the Throne Room, to meet the new Hungarian ambassador. The Colonel, in full dress, accompanied her, adding military pomp and circumstance to the ceremony.

He intercepted them.

´Majesty.´

´Joseph?´

´Majesty, I must insist again that I am handed more information about -´

´Which part of _that is not necessary_ did you not get?´

´Ma'am, a word in private please.´

´Not granted.´

´After the ambassador is installed then,´ he demanded.

She stopped walking and looked him in the eyes.

´Not another word. I have _never_ been neglectful of security, and when I tell you that my friend's guards will protect me as well as my own would, you will just have to accept that.´

He wished her icy tone wasn't directed at him, but if _she_ had lost her senses, _he_ would have to think for _her_.

´I demand to be told where you are going and with whom.´

´Don't shout at me,´ she said, alarmingly soft.

´Majesty, we are a little behind schedule,´ the Colonel lied.

The Queen nodded and continued her walk, her high heels punishing the marble floor.

Before the Queen entered the Throne Room, she took a deep breath. She pushed her anger away by thinking of the coming weekend and when the ambassador reported to his minister about the meeting, he praised Her Majesty's knowledge and charm.

After the Queen entered the Throne Room, Joe hit a wall. He tried to get rid of his anger by entering the dojo and when his men afterwards discussed the training session, they cursed their boss´s ruthlessness and temper.

OoOoOoO

On Friday Joe woke up with a sick feeling.

Perhaps, he figured, if she sees the losers B hired for guards, she will finally realise that it is best to have her own people stay at the house. And if she would, he wouldn't say ´I told you so´ he would simply bend his head and arrange things.

He entered his bathroom.

He could deal with this. No matter what, he would sneak into that house, and stop ...

His mind had, on its own account, been imagining what B and his Queen could be doing together.

They could walk. And hold hands while walking. B could kiss her hand. Put his arm around her waist. Whisper in her ear. Joe felt that would be a good moment for him to start coughing. He knew his Queen, when she was reminded that someone was watching, she wouldn't feel free to... relax.

They could dine. And gaze at each other while dining. Joe figured that four guards playing basket ball would make enough noise to ruin a tête-à-tête.

They could dance. And talk while dancing. And if at some point, he, secretly guarding outside the room, would hear music only, well, he could very well pretend that he thought that some gas had escaped, making her faint. Why not? He preferred his fantasy to end with the Queen being grateful of his interrupting B's unwelcome advances.

They would ride. B would surely enjoy that...

Joe smashed his water glass in the washstand.

He was with her almost every day! Where could she have met this B? How had B escaped his notice? Maybe they had an intimate correspondence?

Once they arrived in Privacy Paradise, he would ask her very politely if he could check the house. Just in case, he would say. I have fullest confidence in your friend's men ma'am, but if something should happen...

He tried facial expressions to accompany his request.

_Not angry Joe! _

_Not concerned you fool!_

_Yes: that's it. Purely professional. _

He said his lines out loud. _Perfect_.

He would get familiar with the house, try doors and windows to see how safe it was. See if there was an alarm system, a working telephone line. And he would find out if she had a separate room.

He saw the man in the mirror frown. _I know what you think: a separate room doesn't guarantee_ _that she..._

´Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!´

B would arrive at four o'clock and until then the Queen had a busy schedule. In the morning she successionally met members of the Board of Highschools and the chairwoman of the Genovian Red Cross. After a quick lunch she visited the country's second town, Antiem, to celebrate the 75th anniversary of the Society for the Study of Crime.

She keenly listened to the honourable Members, asked intelligent questions, looked radiant and would have been insulted had she known that the men she was talking to would not have been less impressed with her had she remained silent.

Maybe, Joe contemplated, he was a masochist for wanting to join her on her trip. He felt like punching every criminologist who threw her an appreciative glance. What would his reaction be if that damned B looked at her that way? Or touched her?

When Her Majesty left the conference hall where the Society had received her, numerous people were waiting for a glimpse of her. She decided not to get into the waiting car, but meet her subjects. A great opportunity for the press, but a nightmare for security. Joseph stayed near her as she gracefully received flowers and kindly spoke to everyone who wasn't too shy to address her.

Joe would have preferred the crowd not to close in, but the Queen wasn't uncomfortable and brilliantly smiled to those surrounding her. Her perfume settled itself in his nose.

When for the fourth time her lady in waiting signaled to him that they had to leave, he placed his hand under his Queen's right elbow and whispered: ´It is time to go Your Majesty.´

She nodded without looking at him, keeping her focus on the public. After caressing a baby's cheek, and saying some well chosen words of farewell to the public, she made her way to the car.

He gravely followed. When she was seated she looked up at him and in a friendly way told him not be concerned.

He knew what she was referring to, but since he was by now more obsessed with something else, he only managed a curt nod. She eyed him, but when he seemed impatient to close the door, she gave up hoping for more response.

Joe seated himself next to the driver. After a few minutes during which he thought he was observing the surroundings while in fact he was checking his mirror, the privacy screen was raised.

´Typical!´ he murmured.

´Sir?´

´Keep your eyes on the road!´ he snapped.

_I'm her bloody Head of Security, how can she expect me to accept that I don't need to know where we are going because her friend's men know all the particulars? Unbelievable!_

He sincerely regretted having spoken to her in a raised voice, and had made his apologies for that.

´Colonel Frerer is as discreet as a deaf and blind nun, Joseph,´ she had replied. ´I know that what happened this morning will not be spread through the Castle. I realise too that it must be... strange for you to have someone else's security in charge. Apologies accepted. Don't bring up the subject again.´

Although a difference of opinion between the liege and her Head of Security was rare enough to make both of them feel uncomfortable _when_ it occured, _she_ hardly seemed affected this time. _Her_ mood was still very good indeed.

_Which can only mean _one_ thing,_ Joe thought, s_he looks forward to having privacy with B._

When they arrived at the Castle, Charlotte, who welcomed the Queen, asked her if she and her friend would have tea together. The Queen replied in the negative, explaining they would leave instantly.

_Can't wait, can you?_ Joe sulked.

The Queen made it for her suite. Joe repeated his instructions to the three men who would join him to protect Her Majesty. Through his ear-piece the guards at the inner gate informed him that the cars had come through. Joe checked his watch. Right on time. _Bastard!_

He barked some commands at his men and went upstairs to inform the Queen that her company would arrive shortly.  
Halfway he sensed that she was approaching. Looking up he saw that she had changed. She wore a skirt that was shorter than the ones she wore in public, and, his eyes travelled higher, a dark blue turtleneck, that caressed her upper body.

´Your friend's cars have passed the gate, ma'am,´ he managed to say.

´Right on time,´ she merrily said.

The doormen opened the entrance doors.

_She'd better not throw herself in his arms._

´You are not going outside to meet your friend are you ma'am?´

´I plan to do so.´

Charlotte saw the look on Joe's face and was relieved that she didn't have to go with them. Fortunately the Queen didn't notice the rage that briefly clouded his features for she was checking her bag.

Joe said something to her and walked off.

Charlotte wondered what words could have caused Her Majesty to look puzzled first, then shocked and finally infuriated.

The Queen followed Joe, but when seeing her assistant, who pretended to be interested in the floor, she inhaled to calm herself. With a smile that didn't reach her eyes, she addressed Charlotte.

´I know you are on schedule with your tasks, so don't think there are things you 'must' do. Enjoy the time-off.´

Charlotte smiled. ´I will ma'am.´

´Good!´

Meanwhile Joe had seen four Fords coming to a stop. The third was heavily armoured.

Men stepped out of the other cars, surveying the surroundings. They were professionals for sure. He didn't feel relieved about that right now, anxious as he was to meet the man he considered to be his rival.

The left door of the third car opened and a man in a military uniform stepped out.

_B. _

_General B. _

_Handsome general B._

The man walked around the rear of the car when Joe, unaware of his own clenched fists, stopped him.

´I am Her Majesty's security officer.´

´Mr Romero. My name is Ben Coligny. I am Her Majesty's Head of the Military House.´

Joe was speechless. She could at least have informed him of Count Rossano's resignation, even when she didn't want to tell him that she had employed her lover as the Count's substitute.

´B!´ he heard her melodious voice behind him.

He looked B in the eyes, setting his hopes on the power of telepathy. _KEEP YOUR HANDS OFF HER!_

´C!´

_Either B is a very good ventriloquist or..._

He looked behind him. An officer had opened the right door of the car and saluted the passenger who stepped out.

The Queen of Genovia embraced her dear friend B. Known to most as the Queen of the Netherlands.


	2. A BC conversation

Chapter 2 - A BC conversation

The estate would have made an nice park for many a capital and the house was an ancient four store mansion. But can a Queen be blamed for describing it as ´not very large´?

The house was situated in a forest and surrounded by a lawn with herbaceous borders.

The exterior of the gloomy house hadn't changed much since the first owners had lived there, but inside it was bright and elegant and very 20th century. It was divided in two parts: one for a family and the other for their servants.

Beatrix and Clarisse enjoyed each others company and their privacy, which they had so little off.

Clarisse felt completely relaxed. She had taken off her shoes and rested her legs on the couch. Her friend, curled up in a chair, smiled at her.

´How long ago is it now?´

´Too long,´ Clarisse admitted, ´how did you find this place? It is lovely.´

´That is a long story, all you need to know is that it ended up in the two of us sitting here.´

The ladies looked outside at the sound of rain. It was still warm and they didn't feel like closing the windows.

Remembering that Beatrix had met the newly installed president of France when opening a exhibition of Dutch masters in Paris, Clarisse asked her opinion of him.

´He is desperately trying to hide that he is from a working class family. There really is no need for that. He would do better to hide his mistress.´

Clarisse smirked.

´This sounds like gossiping B.´

Her friend winked.

´The French will of course not object to him having a lover, but she is as elegant as a duck on land, and brainless too. It is as if her brain is cleft in twain and each half is put up front.´

Clarisse laughed.

´I am going to meet the Russian president next month. What is he like?´

Beatrix looked at the ceiling before answering verbally.

´He is an old communist who would rather avoid meeting Queens, foolish women all of them, who should not be allowed to discuss politics.´

´Wonderful,´ Clarisse sighed, ´and _you_ are a reigning Queen!´

´You have more political power than I have C.´

´True, but a minimum of power can be balanced by a lot of influence.´

Clarisse grinned at her friend. Beatrix laughed and said: ´You are beautiful, the comrade will forgive you for being a Queen as long as you don't pretend to be an intellectual.´

´Men!´ they simultaneously exclaimed.

OoOoOoO

Joe sighed with contentment. He would have to sleep in a musty room. Above the stables. With Vilais. He didn't care. Without her knowing it, he was guarding his Queen. It rained, he had no shelter, but he didn't care.

Last Monday his Queen had informed him that she was going to spend the weekend with a friend. And that was it. She didn't tell him where she was going and least of all with whom.

He knew he hadn't been the only one in the Castle thinking that the date Her Majesty was looking forward to so much, was of a romantic nature. But he _had_ been the only one who had misbehaved as a result of that. Yesterday he had talked to her in a raised voice, one he normally used when his men had acted irresponsible.

And today, just before her friend had arrived, he had snarled something at her.

He had immediately left the Castle, in a rage, to face Her Majesty's mysterious friend 'B'. It wasn't until he saw that 'B' was not a man that the full weight of his remark had hit him.

Even so, after having spent days picturing his Queen with a lover, finally knowing the identity of her companion had made him want to jump in the air, shouting joyful nothings. Shame and utter relief can coexist perfectly fine.

She had embraced her friend, and he had stared. He had thought his face to be expressionless, but when the Queen of the Netherlands had cast him a glance, there had been a flicker of amused understanding in her eyes. Joe felt uncomfortable about that, but he liked her for not being his Queen's beloved and for making her laugh without reserve.

OoOoOoO

´How are the girls?´ Clarisse asked.

´Blossoming. The papers tell me that Emma is in love.´

´Oh?´

´Yes, with a charming witty German count. I met him and I would swear he is gay. Well, if it works out, I will have to adjust my idea and make him bi-sexual.´

Clarisse laughed.

´I am quite sure though she uses sweet Max as a distraction for the press. Which means she's hiding someone.´

´Now, who does she remind me off?´ Clarisse mused.

Beatrix smiled: ´I know, like mother like daughter.´

They listened to the wind gathering strength.

´Philippe is still single?´

Clarisse nodded. After a small pause Beatrix continued.

´I long to see Louise's little girls every day but if I manage to meet them once a month I am happy... Why don't you just visit Amelia?´

´Helen made it clear that she will not have it until the girl is mature. If Philippe agrees, how can I not?´

Clarisse felt obliged to say something nice about Helen.

´She sends pictures a few times a year.´

´Pictures you can't frame because someone might see them.´

Beatrix padded her friend's knee and made them tea.

By the time Beatrix had finished, Clarisse had dried her tears. She gave her friend the latest pictures of Amelia, requesting to see photographs of Aletta and Sophie. They admired each others granddaughters and placed the pictures on the mantelpiece.

It still rained. Beatrix mentioned that she liked to ride in a forest after a refreshing shower. They discussed horses and the ride they would make the next day. The staff of their stables became the next topic and after that they talked about their personnel in the palace.

Beatrix wanted to know if Clarisse had managed to lessen yet another nobleman's involvement at the Genovian court. Clarisse smiled like a naughty angel. Beatrix laughed.

´Your Head of Security is rather persistent, isn't he?´ Beatrix casually remarked.

´Yours wouldn't have agreed to let you go alone either, would he?´

´True. But then, they are not quite alike.´

´What do you mean?´

´Well,´ Beatrix carefully said, ´_my_ Head of Security is not in love with his Queen.´

Clarisse studied the flowers on the side table.

´C?´

´Nonsense!´

´Clarisse, don't tell me you are fooling yourself. It didn't take _me_ ages to find out. You _must_ have noticed how he looks at you.´

Clarisse walked to a window.

Beatrix patiently waited.

She had seen her friend and her friend's Head of Security on several occasions, the first time when Rupert was still alive, and the way the bodyguard looked at his Queen had not escaped her.

At first she'd thought it was admiration for Clarisse's beauty, but later she'd decided that the man in black might be in love. Clarisse would never break her marriage vows and Beatrix had known that the Genovian Head of Security didn't stand a chance. Now however... In Clarisse's second last letter to her Dutch friend, Joseph had made his appearance thrice.

´He is my bodyguard, of course he looks at me.´

´Lovingly?´

´Tosh!´

Beatrix poured her friend another cup of tea and handed it to her.

´I think he was surprised to find that I was a woman.´

Clarisse shrugged.

´I told him I was going away with a friend. No more. He found out that I called you _B_.´

´Was he jealous _C_?´

Clarisse took a sip of her tea and made a face, for she had forgotten to stir.

´Just before you arrived, I checked my bag, and Joseph glanced at it.´

Beatrix looked questioningly. Clarisse fingered at her spoon, bit her lip, eyed her friend and started to blush.

´He said that he hoped I had at least taken care of _certain_ protection.´

OoOoOoO

A bird sang, welcoming the sunshine.

The thoroughly wet guard in the garden heard an exclamation from the house, followed by laughter.

OoOoOoO

´I didn't even get it at first! He had been nagging about security for _days_... _Protection_!´

Clarisse's blush increased.

Beatrix wiped away a tear and managed to say: ´He _is_ your body's guard...´

Clarisse didn't know if it was Beatrix's infectious laughter, or her own nervousness, but she couldn't prevent herself from laughing, even though she didn't think Joseph's remark had been funny.

After a while the friends recovered and they sat down again, with a glass of wine Clarisse had poured them.

´What should I do B?´ Clarisse sighed.

´That is all up to you sweetheart. You are attracted to him, aren't you?´

Clarisse made no reply at first, and when she did, she merely nodded.

Beatrix didn't hurry her.

´But he's my... What will the people say? And the boys?´

´He is your devoted admirer. The people? They need not know. As for your sons, they are adults, they can cope with it.´

Beatrix studied her friend, who stared at her hands.

´Clarisse, it is nobody's business if you fall in love or even have a passionate affair. ´

´B, I am past sixty,´ Clarisse said miserably.

´Tosh! You have blood running through your veins and a skin that tickles when he is near...´

´B...´

´I _am_ right am I not?´

Beatrix's soft question was answered with a shy smile that made Clarisse's eyes glance.

Beatrix was moved but when she spoke she sounded matter-of-factly.

´Your first step is to give yourself your blessing for being attracted to him. And if that is all you need: fine. It is all up to you.´

´Yes,´ Clarisse agreed. ´And who says _he_ wants more anyway?´

´Right,´ Beatrix supported her, thinking _and Livingstone would have settled for a trip to Bath_.

They entered different subjects, but when Clarisse said: ´So you think it would be all right?´ Beatrix knew she wasn't revering to the Prime Ministers they were dissecting.

´You loved Rupert, but he is dead. You will not play him false! Why deny yourself the pleasure of being in love? Why suppress the joy to know someone caresses you without even touching? And it is not as if it would turn you into a new Elizabeth I. Joseph is not 40 years your junior.´

´No,´ Clarisse agreed, glad that her friend mentioned her late husband. For now she didn't contemplate Beatrix's second rhetorical question.

´Step by step and que sera sera,´ Beatrix shrugged. ´Who knows -´

Clarisse stopped her from finishing her line: ´Isn't it time to change for dinner?´

Beatrix, for now satisfied with Clarisse's response, let her of the hook. After all, she had the whole weekend.

OoOoOoO

One of the reasons the Dutch Queen was happy to have found ´El chalet´ - as the mansion was known by the locals - was the Michelin rated restaurant in the nearby village. She and Clarisse spent the evening there, much to the liking of the guards – all Dutch- that accompanied them.

Their Majesties, knowing someone might hear them talk, restricted their conversation to subjects like art, ballet, books and -very odd- cooking.

´I hate it when people assume that when we are on holiday I am doing the cooking. Woman? Kitchen!´ Beatrix said.

´I know, it is a stupid idea. I never even liked to cook. When I was a student - I suppose that was the only time you had to cook for yourself as well?´

Her friend raised her glass.

´In those days I would eat potatoes, docile vegetables and tame meat.´

Beatrix laughed: ´Likewise!´

´But somehow people get excited by the thought of a...in a kitchen. If we were men, they wouldn't ask if we could cook and bake, would they? Except when they had heard a rumour about us being gourmet cooks.´

´Speaking of which, the chef of this place knows how to handle fish. It was excellent.´

Clarisse saw the host approaching them. She thought it might be wise to use their incognito names.

´Did you rent the mansion only because of the restaurant Johanna?´

´No but I must admit Marie, I rather like having it near.´

´Was everything to your satisfaction madam, madam?´

They replied affirmative and asked the host to give the cook their compliments.

He thanked them, feeling that a compliment from _these_ ladies was praise indeed.

When they came downstairs, some musicians were about to play. The ladies joined the guests who had gathered around them. Beatrix noticed that several men glanced at Clarisse, who looked gracious as always.

The guards took unobtrusive positions near their Queen and her royal friend.

The ladies were used to hearing the best of the best perform for them, but although the musicians were no professionals, they listened with pleasure. Beatrix got someone's elbow in her waist and almost giggled when its owner only gave a growl for an apology. She looked to her right, to share a laugh with Clarisse, but her friend had closed her eyes and enjoyed the mesmerizing guitar music.

´That was quite a new take on Vivaldi, wasn't it?´Beatrix remarked after the applause faded away.

´Indeed, but they made it work,´ Clarisse replied.

´I noticed that you liked the music,´ a forty-ish Spanish man said to her in English. ´You are English yes?´

´Do we sound English?´ Clarisse smiled.

´Oh yes! You speak the Queen's English.´

The Spaniard didn't understand why the ladies smiled at each other. Not that he minded. They did it charmingly.

He now knew their nationality, but he wanted to find out more. After making a few remarks about the music that showed his lack of knowledge on the subject, he used the fact that the blonde lady touched her hair to retrieve information.

´That is a beautiful ring seňora. It befits its owner. Is it a family piece? Please forgive me, but I notice these things.´

His own subtlety pleased him.

´It has been in my husband's family for many years.´

´Ah, your husband is here as well?´

The man looked around as if he couldn't wait to meet him.

´It's just the two of us,´ Beatrix revealed.

´Ah! The ladies wanted to enjoy themselves alone, si?´

´Absolutely,´ Beatrix smiled, ´we needed to catch up, for we hardly ever see each other.´

´That is such a shame! But now you are here. If there is anything I can do for you? There is a little town near by, which will be even more beautiful when you walk its streets. I, Juan Soares, will be very happy to give you a tour.´

´No no, if there is a man fit to show the ladies the surroundings, it is I, Carlos Sevilla.´

A tall man with a Roman nose kissed Beatrix's hand and then Clarisse's.

´At your service seňora, seňora.´

´Carlos old friend, my offer stands first.´ Juan gave Carlos the evil eye.

´The first, the second, does it matter?´ Carlos replied. He saw the sparkle in the brunette's eye.

´I know what you are thinking seňora.´

´Do tell me sir.´

´You think: two ladies, two gentlemen, that would be perfect.´

´Normally I would say 'si' however, this weekend I have to say 'no'.´

Carlos asked her if she spoke Spanish. When she smiled and replied that she didn't speak the tongue as good as a native did, the men were somehow convinced that she couldn't say more than si, no and por favor. And they figured that her friend, a blonde after all, didn't speak the language either.

Carlos smiled at his friend and in his native tongue said that the blonde had an impressive bosom and lips that were made to be kissed. Juan replied that her ring must be worth a large Mercedes and that Carlos was out of her league. The brunette, who wore a fake emerald, was just as charming as her attractive companion, he consoled his friend.

´Que?´ Beatrix said. She had no difficulty hiding that she had understood every word. Clarisse looked as blank as the Holy Virgin.

´I was telling my friend that we really should persuade you to come to the town, for it is impressive and he replied that the four of us could have lunch at Mercedes, where the food is nearly as good as it is here. His niece Esmeralda was the decorator and it is an attractive place.´

Clarisse liked the way seňor Sevilla managed to include the car brand and the name of the rather expensive stone on Beatrix's finger in his translation. Beatrix also appreciated the effort and amused herself by imagining how _Joseph_ would have responded to the gentlemen's conversation.

´Alas sir, this weekend we will spend together. Just my friend and I.´

´And we need to get up early tomorrow, we really should leave,´ Clarisse contributed.

´You are right. Gentlemen, it was a pleasure.´

Clarisse nodded at them.

The ladies left, to the gentlemen's sorrow.

OoOoOoO

´Good lord,´ Clarisse said when the doors of the car were closed.

´You almost needed protection C,´ Beatrix teased.

´B!´ Clarisse started to blush again.

Beatrix hoped that her friend wouldn't forget the remark about the lips made to be kissed. And that man had been 44, 47 at most.

´When I am incognito,´ Clarisse said, ´I like it that people don't give me the _yes Your Majesty, of course Your Majesty would you want us to lick your feet Your Majesty_ treatment. But sometimes being treated like a normal person is strange.´

´No, you mean being treated like a beautiful woman feels strange.´

´Why did you make them believe you don't speak Spanish?´

´I did _not_ you English woman! I told the truth: I don't speak Spanish like someone who is born here.´

´B, you could fool the Spanish professor Higgins.´

Beatrix laughed. ´Still,´ she insisted. ´And they should not have gossiped.´

´People are sometimes tempted to speak freely.´

´They were tempted all right,´ Beatrix said and before Clarisse could respond, she continued: ´What is the strangest thing that ever happen -´ She looked outside. ´I think we have reached the estate. ´

She contacted the driver to have her idea confirmed. She made the gesture of walking. Clarisse nodded and Beatrix had the driver stop the car. They got out and started to walk the drive. Two bodyguards accompanied them at a distance. One car preceded them, the other followed.

Beatrix finished her question and made a gesture to the second car to have its lights dimmed.

´That is easy,´ Clarisse said. ´The strangest thing that happened to me while I was incognito, took place in Manhattan. The setting: our favorite hotel. I entered the lobby and the manager prevented me from going to my suite by asking if everything was satisfactory, you know what I mean.´

Clarisse looked at her friend. Beatrix knew what she meant. As always. No explaining needed, no nodding just for nodding´s sake. She _knew_. She briefly put her arm around Beatrix's waist. Beatrix fondly smiled at her.

´He was interrupted by a young woman, in her early thirties I think -´

Beatrix made a sound.

´I know, we're getting old if we describe 33-ish as young.´

Beatrix laughed.

´This woman said I am sorry but I have to ask. Those are Manolos aren't they Miss?´

´Ha!´ Beatrix cried. ´There's hope for people in our age basket.´

Clarisse grinned: ´Would you let me finish?´

´Yes Miss!´

´The manager said do you know who you are addressing, but I told him it was all right and fortunately he was claimed by another guest. Young Woman had not heard a word we said, she stared at my feet in awe, uttering those are really Manolo Blahniks. Now imagine my bodyguards and aid standing nearby.´

The friends looked at each other and laughed. Clarisse continued, waving her hands as Young Woman had done.

´They are perfect. Just perfect. Are they from the new collection? I said they were not. You're from Europe, she realised and she asked if I had bought them in London. Or better still Paris, for she had always wanted to visit that town and what better reason to go there than to buy a pair of magnificent Manolos. Her enthusiasm was quite enchanting. I couldn't let her leave for Paris for naught, so I told her that it was a unique pair. She didn't believe me. I asked her how many collections she was familiar with. She smiled brilliantly and said: Every. Single. One.´

Beatrix could picture it as if she'd been there.

´But if you have never seen these, doesn't it prove that I speak the truth? She admitted it made sense but it was such a waste. And then she said sorry sorry I didn't mean to say that _you_ shouldn't have them. Oh! They are so beautiful. I thanked her and said that I was going to take the shoes walking again.´

´You cruel woman!´

´That sweetheart walked my Manolos to the elevator and glanced at them until the doors closed.´

Beatrix applauded.

OoOoOoO

Back in the mansion Clarisse made them hot cocoa.

´It's strange isn't it? When you are abroad, and someone approaches you - ´

She carefully poured a mug with the hot substance. Her friend finished her line.

´And you make your shield of Queenly demeanour become visible -´ Beatrix was handed a mug. ´Thank you, it smells delicious.´

Clarisse took over, while filling her own mug: ´Because you think he recognises you...´ she stopped talking, expecting Beatrix to prove that she once again knew what she meant to say.

´And all he wants to know are directions to the station, or where you've bought your shoes...´

Clarisse smiled: ´You feel fooled...´

´As if you are in a play and he doesn't stick by his line.´

They clinked their mugs.

´And when the show is on,´ Beatrix mused, ´you know the shield, the mask are necessary, but still...´

´You would want someone to see through it.´

´I am grateful Ernst saw through mine,´ Beatrix thoughtfully said. ´Let us conclude that all the world's a stage.´

´True. And right now, we are in the wings.´

Beatrix raised her mug.

´Here's to the wings!´

´Salud!´

OoOoOoO

In the village near El chalet, a young photographer named Xavier lived. He had an interest in expensive cars and his six year old sister Dolores had developed the same hobby. She had seen a lot of Fords pass and Limouns as well, and when her big brother came home from work, she ran toward him, and yelled about her discovery. He promised her he would take her to the old mansion, for that was the direction the cars had taken, to see if they could spot the vehicles.

´Now?´

´No Dolores, tomorrow.´


	3. To play C

Chapter 3 – to play C

The next morning the friends met for an early breakfast, both wearing their riding gear.

´If your bed is half as comfortable as mine, you had a good night,´ Beatrix said, adding honey to her tea.

´I can say the same,´ Clarisse responded. She didn't mention the dream she'd had, about being touched by someone standing in the shadows at the other side of the room.

Thirty minutes later on they were on horseback. They rode for hours, and had lunch in the grass next to a sandy road.

At a small distance – too far away to eavesdrop and near enough to defend – the Queens' men sat down.

Clarisse saw that Joseph and general Coligny had found each others company.

´They seem to be getting along.´

´They are probably gossiping about their work. In a very discreet way. Do you know C that the General always introduces himself to his peers as Ben Coligny?´

Clarisse couldn't suppress a grin.

´Have you forgiven Joseph for his _protective_ remark?´ Beatrix wanted to know.

Clarisse took a bite from her tuna sandwich.

´It is just that I noticed you haven't said a word to him since we left Pyrus,´ Beatrix continued, taking a bite from her apple and waiting for her friend to finish.

´I just want to feel free here.´

´And not paying attention to your men helps you with that,´ Beatrix suggested.

´Indeed.´

Clarisse eyed her friend.

´All right, I am still pissed.´

´Just pissed?´

´And embarrassed,´ Clarisse sighed.

Beatrix threw the core in the bushes.

´What about flattered?´

´You know B, I wonder how Europe would look like today if you had reigned five hundred years ago.´

´The British Empire would never have been and New York would be New Amsterdam!´

Clarisse added her fantasies to her friend's, who's reply was:´Flattery indeed.´

Clarisse looked caught.

Beatrix laughed. ´You didn't think you could change the subject just like that did you?´

´It was worth a try.´

Clarisse got to her feet.

Beatrix grinned and followed her friend's example. They put their rubbish in a bin and signaled their men to prepare to leave.

When they were riding again, Clarisse pointed out that the sky looked glorious. Beatrix couldn't but agree. Five minutes later she was still talking about fine skies, but Clarisse just _knew_ the subject she feared would be brought up sooner or later. She couldn't stand the tension and interrupted Beatrix's description of a Vermeer sky.

´If you meant to say that I should feel flattered because someone my own age thinks that I still have you know what, it isn't really flattery is it?´

´Juan nor Carlos were your age.´

Clarisse looked at her friend.

´What is _that_ suppose to mean?´

´That it isn't an age thing.´

Clarisse made her horse go at a trot.

Beatrix shook her head and smiled.

´Follow that horse,´ she whispered to her mare.

When she'd caught in on her friend, she apologised.

´I didn't intend to make you feel uncomfortable Clarisse,´ she added.

Clarisse didn't seem to hear her. She looked behind her and to Beatrix's great surprise said: ´We never talked about... that, did we? Have you ever discussed... you know what, with anyone?´

´Apart from telling the girls about the birds and the bees?´

´Apart from that. Rupert handled that with our boys, thank goodness,´ Clarisse laughed.

Beatrix decided to copy Clarisse's light tone.

´I only discussed it with my lovers and later with Ernst of course.´

´You did?´

´When I thought that there might be a next time. For the lovers.´

Clarisse threw her head in her neck and laughed.

´You know,´ Beatrix continued, inspired by the Manolo girl Clarisse had talked about the previous evening, ´those friends in Sex and the City discuss it all the time. The way someone kisses, or licks -´

´Oh God!´

Beatrix got a sparkle in her eye.

´Yessss,´ she hissed, ´that's the normal reply to such an action.´ She smiled wickedly.

OoOoOoO

Joe and the General looked behind them at the sound of their Queens' laughter. Even their horses seemed to have fun.

Joe wished his Queen could laugh like that with him. He shook his head. Still jealous of 'B'.

OoOoOoO

The Queens were not the only ones who rose early. A little girl called Dolores woke her brother, telling him she was ready to go.

´Do you know what time it is?´

´Time to go Xavier. Come on. What if the cars are gone?´

Xavier closed his eyes, hoping his sister would leave.

She pulled away the blanket.

´_Come on_!´

Forty minutes later, as the church bell struck to announce it was seven 'o clock, they crossed the village square.

Dolores was chatting happily, thrilled to be on an outing with her brother.

As they walked the dead end road leading to El Chalet, she got nervous.

´What if they have dogs to chase us away?´

´We can walk here if we want to little one.´

´But the dogs won't understand that.´

Xavier laughed.

´Don't you worry, I will tell them to sit still so I can make a picture of them.´

The girl giggled.

Xavier had played on these grounds when he was a child, and he remembered that near the garage the wall surrounding the estate was partly replaced by a fence.

It was difficult to reach the spot for the bushes weren't welcoming and the ground was covered with stinging nettles. When Xavier put Dolores down, her chagrin and the noise she made expressing it, where stopped by an item from her brother's survival kit: a lollipop.

´I don't see any cars do you?´ she lisped.

Xavier used his most powerful telephoto lens and he had to agree with Dolores. From where they were standing only a side of the large garage and the front side of the stables were visible. And still that was a better view than the one they had had from the entrance gate which only showed a long empty drive.

´They were really there Xavier, really really.´

´I believe you sweetie.´

He sighed.

´We'd better return home.´

He was about to remove the lens when he heard whinnying.

Two riders holding the reigns of pitch black horses came out of the stables.

He viewed them through his lens. They made a fine couple: the man was balding, yet attractive and the female rider was beautiful, with long legs and curves in all the right places.

Dolores pulled at his sleeve.

´Could you make photos of the horses Xavier? Please?´

He nodded and placed his finger on his lips. She quickly put the lollipop in her mouth to prove she would be quiet.

Xavier shot a series of pictures.

When they returned home he developed the pictures and at lunch time he handed them to Dolores. She gave him a hug and showed the photos to her grandmother Inez, who lived with them.

´Santa Maria,´ the woman cried out after she had put on her glasses.

´That is Reina Clarisse.´

Xavier grabbed the photos and studied them with new interest.

´Really grandma?´

´Si si, get me my magazine Dolores.´

The girl ran away to return with the latest issue of her grandmother's gossip magazine.

Inez turned pages until she had found one with a picture of the Genovian Queen.

´See?´ she told her grandson.

´Fuck!´

Xavier received a slap on his arm.

´Ay! Sorry grandma.´

´Huh!´

´Are you sure it's her?´

´Si si, look boy!´

OoOoOoO

Clarisse entered the drawing room.

´There is nothing better than a hot shower after a day's riding.´

´Absolutely,´ Beatrix responded.

´Have you called Ernst? How did he feel?´

During the ride from Pyrus to their holiday address, the friends had talked about the Dutch prince consort, who had had a heart attack four months previous and was still recovering.

´He had taken a walk in the garden with Sophie. He had no difficulty keeping up with her.´

´Good, being outrun by a three year old must be very annoying.´

´Indeed. The last time I took a walk with him I had to keep myself from screaming because it was going so very slowly.´

´I know. It would take Rupert minutes to make it from the bed to his bathroom after he had an attack.´

´Fortunately we can plaster a smile on our faces,´ Beatrix replied.

´Do your girls see through you?´

´They take after me. Sometimes I feel they can read me like an open book.´

´I don't think Pierre and Philippe can read me easily.´

They sat in a comfortable silence.

Beatrix hoped that her friend would mention a certain someone, apart from herself, who _could_ read her.

When Clarisse folded her hands around her glass of Darjeeling tea, and inhaled the scent, Beatrix figured she would have to enter the subject herself.

´It is a good thing that _I_ like to read a good book, even though it's written in Genovian cipher.´

Clarisse affectionately smiled at her friend.

´A new chapter would be nice though. I could do with a tale of romance.´

Clarisse glared at Beatrix.

´I preferred the look you gave me just before,´ Beatrix commented.

Clarisse took a sip from her tea.

´A writer,´ Beatrix continued, ´can decide which road to take. And sometimes she just doesn't know where the path is leading to.´

´Romance... _if_ Joseph wants something more - ´

´Something more?´

Clarisse sighed.

´If he wants... to love me... I thought about it today and... it's just so complicated B.´

Clarisse walked the room, under the pretence of admiring the flowers on various tables.

´We would have to keep it a secret and would it work? Employer, lover, I mean... It's just... And maybe he's just being kind to me and he doesn't want - ´

´Clarisse.´

Clarisse looked at her friend.

´Tell me honestly. If he just wants to be friends, would you be sorry?´

They stared at each other.

´Damn you B,´ Clarisse whispered.

´C, believe me. That man is head over heals in love with you.´

Beatrix wished she had her sketchbook near, to capture the bliss that slowly showed on her friend's face.

Clarisse walked toward Beatrix and kissed her head. Then, like a schoolgirl, she plumped down next to her.

´Do you really think so?´ she beamed.

´Cross my heart.´

Clarisse sighed with contentment.

´It feels so good.´

´I know,´ Beatrix softly said.

They held hands.

´If only it could stay this way.´

´Unfulfilled?´

´No, that's not what I mean... I wish that this feeling could stay. This feeling of... security.´

Beatrix winked at her friend: ´In your case sweetheart, I think that feeling will _always_ stay.´

OoOoOoO

Joe had volunteered to walk to the mansion to get some tea-bags and eggs. He checked the surroundings, but there was nothing to worry about. Vilais, who had been hiding behind a tree near the entrance gate during the morning, had not reported anything worth while. Joe greeted a Dutchman standing guard near the back door.

He carefully opened the door to the kitchen. If she caught him, he was in trouble.

_So why did you go Joe? Because you want to see her. Just make sure she doesn't see _you_. _

Not once had she talked to him or given him a smile since they'd left the Castle.

The kitchen was empty save for Ben Coligny, who was making himself something to eat.

´Mr Romero. Would you like a cheese sandwich too?´

Joe shook his head.

´No thank you. I only came to get some supplies my men forgot. You will not join us outside the stables to eat?´

´No I won't thank you. I am going to do some reading. Why are you whispering?´

´I think Her Majesty wouldn't want me to be here.´

´Nonsense. Despite what you might think – Oh, you mean _your_ Queen.´

Joe nodded.

´Well, you'll know best Mr Romero.´

The General added some chive to his sandwich and left. Joe searched for tea and a bowl to carry eggs in, thinking about how he had hated Ben Coligny in those moments before the Queen of the Netherlands had stepped out of her car. And now? The man was easy going, although he kept his distance, he was intelligent and the best part: he wasn't Queen Clarisse's lover. A _very_ likeable man.

Joe quietly opened cupboards. He soon found tea, but it wasn't until the last cupboard that he found a big bowl. He had just located the eggs in the loaded refrigerator, when he heard footsteps. High heels. It wasn't _his_ Queen, but still... He couldn't leave the kitchen without being seen, so he hid himself in the store room.

The Queen of the Netherlands entered the kitchen to choose a bottle of wine to go with the dinner one of her men was collecting from the restaurant. She smiled. Someone had used a lot of shower lotion after the ride.

´Good evening Mr Romero.´

The silence seemed to increase, for someone tried very hard not to be present.

´It is your lotion.´

Did she hear a sigh? She smirked. A door opened.

Looking over her shoulder she saw a sheepish looking Head of Security holding a pink bowl.

She raised her eyebrows.

He cleared his throat.

´Your Majesty. I was looking for eggs and tea.´

´That is a plain meal, Mr Romero. If you need more, please take it.´

´One of my men claims to be a master omelet maker ma'am.´

´Than you'd better bring some frying-pans with you as well. I doubt the stable's kitchen provides it.´

´That has been arranged, thank you.´

The Queen figured this was the best chance she had.

´What about the other thing Mr Romero, will that be arranged as well?´

´I'm sorry?´

´Her Majesty is not too pleased with the remark you made.´

His expression showed that he knew what she was referring to.

´I think you should talk about it. _Before_ you leave for Pyrus,´ she told him.

After the Queen had left, taking a bottle of wine with her, Joe put eggs in the bowl without realising what he was doing. It wasn't until he came in view of the stables, that it dawned on him: she had not looked at him as if he was a cockroach. In fact, she had seemed understanding.

He shook his head. _Really Romero._

OoOoOoO

´What shall we do tomorrow?´

´The weather will be good, we could just sit on the lawn,´ Clarisse suggested.

´That sounds perfect.´

´Besides after this meal I doubt we will be able to go on an outing.´

´Doing nothing at all sounds attractive.´

´Then nothing it is, with lots of ice-tea and lemonade and delicious sandwiches. By the by, this is an excellent wine.´

´Thank you. I chose it with care.´

´Maybe there's a hammock in the little summer-house.´

´_That_ would be the thing C.´

´I can still picture those warm days, when the boys were chasing each other or playing football with Rupert and I was near, in a hammock, listening to their excited voices.´

´Those were the days,´ Beatrix agreed.

They spent the remainder of the meal talking about the past.

When they bade each other good night Beatrix again asked Clarisse if she was still upset about Joseph's remark, adding: ´Knowing how he feels about you, it is...cute.´

´Teddy bears are cute, green monsters are not,´ Clarisse retorted.

´I just think you should talk about it... Sweet dreams C.´


	4. A little bit of C

Chapter 4 – A little bit of C

Sweet dreams don't come easily when there's a lot on your mind.

Clarisse was leaning against the pillows on her bed, staring at her wedding ring.

She was a widow.

A widow.

But during this weekend, the thought that she was a woman had presented itself to her.

A single woman.

It prevented her from falling asleep. Or perhaps she felt she didn't deserve another sweet dream like the one she'd had last night.

_Ridiculous!_ she scolded herself. _Dreams are free. If I dream about... Joseph... doing You Know Wh-. Making love, Clarisse, that is how it's called. Dreaming is perfectly innocent! And healthy. You have blood running through your veins._

She yawned. Removing the pillows, she laid down, fully intended to have a wonderful dream.

_A skin that tickles when he's near..._

With one hand on a shoulder and the other below a breast, she could just picture how the dream should start.

OoOoOoO

´Good morning!´

´My my, someone is merry this time of day,´ Beatrix replied.

Clarisse shrugged and smiled.

Beatrix poured her friend tea, a twinkle in her eyes.

´Will you join me for a tour on the grounds? There is a tennis court and a swimming pool as well, in the middle of the forest. It's in the opposite direction from the stables.´

´I'd love to,´ Clarisse replied, spreading her napkin on her lap, ´A tour? Are you thinking of buying the place?´

Beatrix nodded.

When they left the mansion, four guards accompanied them.

The Dutch Queen objected, but agreed when she was told that a photographer had been spotted, at the fence near the stables.

´Annoying press mosquitoes. If I buy this place,´ she told her friend as they continued their walk, ´I will have the fence replaced by a wall.´

´That would be best.´

´And I will have a swing made on that branch.´ She pointed at a huge tree.

´The little ones will love that.´

´So will this big one,´ Beatrix laughed.

The tennis court and the pool were just what they should be: simple and beautifully situated.

´This place will provide a lot of good memories.´

´It will,´ Clarisse agreed, inhaling the scent of earth and wild flowers. The friends relished in the sight of the sunlight shining through the trees.

´I was thinking C, this might as well be a mutual project.´

Clarisse glanced at her friend.

´I can't deny that I am a bit jealous because you found it first B, but don't think that now that I am here, you are obliged to share the candy.´

´Ha! This is a perfect meeting place for us. We might as well buy it together. We have been friends for over forty years, we are not going to argue about it.´

Clarisse sighed happily.

´You're on B!´

OoOoOoO

Joe, whose room was situated at the back side of the stables, saw the Queens come near. They were engaged in a lively conversation.

He needed to face his Queen and though he still didn't know how to approach her, he walked down the narrow staircase to greet her at least.

He found Their Majesties studying the window-frames.

The Dutch Queen spotted him first.

´Good morning Mr Romero.´

´Good morning Your Majesty. Your Majesty.´

´Good morning Joseph.´

She smiled at him.

For the first time since his arrival Joe acknowledged the beauty of the grounds.

He asked them if they had heard about the photographer. His Queen told him they had and that they would not walk to the front side of the stables.

The Queens disappeared inside the building to return ten minutes later, chatting about real estate.

When the Dutch Queen received a phone call on her mobile she suggested that her friend would go back to the mansion without her. ´This can take a while C,´ she said pointing at her phone, ´I am sorry. Perhaps you can check if there is a hammock in the summer-house?´

Two Dutch guards followed their Queen's guest so Joe couldn't claim he should go after her as well. He felt the Queen of the Netherlands watching him. As she listened to what was said on the other side of the line, she mouthed something: Go after her. Talk to her.

This was followed by a 'what are you waiting for' look.

Joe was so flabbergasted that he didn't even greet her as he went after his Queen.

OoOoOoO

It seemed as if the forest came to life when she walked there in front of him. Having been a marine, he appreciated the shelter and food a wood provided, but the sheer beauty of it had been made clear to him through _her_ eyes. Things he had not noticed before, became worth while when she cherished them. Roses? Flowers like any other, but it wasn't until he had seen _her_ enjoy their colour, scent, shape, that he had started to admire them. Opera? It's dramatic power had been lost on him until he'd seen how it could move _her_.

_And she doesn't know it._

The Queen stepped into the little summer house. Joe followed her and gave the Dutchmen waiting outside fierce glances to tell them to _stay_ out. He found his Queen checking stuff on a shelf against the back wall.

´What are you looking for Your Majesty?´

The sound of his voice didn't startle her. She had known for some time he was guarding her. She recalled the first part of last night's dream:

_Dr Banner had been in the drawing room, looking like Joseph. He'd turned muscular and green, but it had not frightened her. She never was afraid when Joseph was near and besides: Joseph-Hulk had glanced at her with big puppy eyes. _

_The granddaughters on the pictures had started to sing and at ´let me be your lovin' teddy bear´ the Hulk had nodded enthusiastically._

Joseph heard a smile in her voice when she answered him.

´I'm looking for a hammock Joseph. I don't know if there is one though.´

He checked the contents of plastic boxes and found pillows. When he turned around he stared at her ankles. The Queen had climbed a small ladder to check a high shelf. She saw a piece of cotton cloth.

´I am sorry ma'am.´

´You didn't find one?´

She pulled at at the cloth with one hand using the other to hold on to the ladder. Joe steadied the ladder for her. It earned him a smile. He didn't see it though for his eyes were fixed on the floor.

´Oh!´

Joe stifled a curse. The pile of cloth had reached the floor via his head.

Still, he kept holding the ladder.

Upper legs, hips, waist, bosom...

´Are you all right Joseph?´

She sounded concerned and reached out her hand. Her cool slender fingers caressed his head.

´I am fine ma'am.´

When she retreated her hand it contained a big black spider.

He swallowed. She gently put the spider down.

´I am sorry for the remark I made. It was out of line. I regret making it. I offer you my apologies.´

They stared at each other.

_A skin that tick- _she decided she'd better go outside. The situation looked far too much like the start of the second part of her dream when Joseph had been himself again.

´Let's see if this is a hammock.´

They unfolded it in front of the summer house.

´Ah!´ Beatrix commented, walking toward them. ´A wind screen, well, you can't have it all.´

OoOoOoO

Beatrix watched her friend, elegant on a lounge-chair, reading a book.

Clarisse hadn't said a word about her conversation with Joseph.

Beatrix didn't worry though. In almost every drawing she'd made of Clarisse her friend had a sweet smile on her face that couldn't have anything to do with Dostoevsky's novel.

They spent hours in the garden. Reading, talking, sketching.

Sometimes Beatrix would walk to the kitchen for refreshments, sometimes Clarisse would.

Beatrix had a feeling that Joseph hadn't returned to the stables after installing them in the garden. Especially not since he had insisted that this particular spot would be perfect. Clarisse had been willing to agree and Beatrix hadn't mentioned the fact that they could be observed from the kitchen. She was sure Joseph had made himself familiar with all hiding places by now. And that he _hadn't_ used shower lotion.

´Would you like some strawberries B?´

´I'd love to!´

Clarisse closed her book and picked up the empty water-bottle.

OoOoOoO

Joe saw his Queen approach. He left the house via the front door instead of hiding in the store room again. What _he_ couldn't know was that _she_ spotted a butterfly. She followed it around the house to the front side.

´Joseph!´

´Majesty.´

Having spent a few days with Beatrix had made Clarisse more blunt. Still, when she addressed Joseph, she watched the butterfly.

´Joseph, would you have offered your apologies had my friend been a man?´

Silence.

She looked at him.

´If he had been your... friend, yes I would have.´

He swallowed. A suicidal devil made him continue. He watched the butterfly.

´If he had been your 'special' friend, I...´

King Rupert had embraced her, kissed her. He, Joe, had handled that, hadn't he? _He was her husband. He had the right. _

Joe got red spots in his neck. The King hadn't had the _right_ to spend the night with her. He had been _privileged _to do so and he hadn't fully appreciated it. If Joe had been King he doubted a day would pass when he _wouldn't_ make love to her. And not just once.

He remembered how angry he'd been when the criminologists had glanced at her last Friday. How he had cursed when thinking about her spending the night in lover B's bed.

_It would have been _her _choice to make. If she wants to -._

´I...´

If she would find a lover at her beg and call, like he had feared she had, would he be able to live with that?

He took pride in being a professional. If she was safely in her suite he should be content. But to know that some creep would make her sigh and moan, kissing and touching... _Stop it!_

´I...´

Here he stood: a stammering fool. Any moment now she could walk away, upset again. It was none of his business if she - .

For the second time that day he felt her hand on his skin, as she cupped his cheek. He might have lacked words but his eyes had spoken volumes.

He looked at her and gasped when he saw the loving look in her eyes.

Without thinking he caught her hand and kissed her palm, never breaking eye contact.

BOING BOING

She withdrew her hand and stepped back.

´Catch it Vilais!´

The addressed guard ran around the corner of the house, following a ball.

BOING

´My cripple _dad_ could have caught it! Loser!´

Dilson rounded the corner too, a good humoured smile on his face. Not having a ball to chase like Vilais, he was the first to notice his Queen and his boss. Her Majesty was ascending the stairs to the entrance, holding an empty water-bottle.

Picking up the ball, Vilais turned around, to find the Head of Security glare at him.

Boing

When the Queen had disappeared into the house, guard Capras showed up. Feeling the tension he tried to explain things.

´Sir. I hope you don't mind we're using your basketball. The Dutch didn't need our help they said. So we thought... Perhaps you would like to play with us?´

Silence.

´Sir?´


	5. A little more of C

Chapter 5 – A little more of C

Vilais didn't like the way his boss looked at him. Romero had the same glance in his eyes as he'd had last Thursday, in the dojo.

´Come here!´ the Head of Security barked.

The three guards hasted toward him.

´The Queen is staying _here_.´

The men nodded.

´We are staying _there_.´

He pointed in the direction of the stables.

´The idea being that Her Majesty has some privacy. You will not come near the house, IS THAT UNDERSTOOD?´

´Ay sir!´ the guards replied in unison.

´Back to the stables! I will assure Her Majesty that this will not happen again.´

The men obeyed. Vilais, a brave if perhaps stupid man, picked up the basketball on his way.

OoOoOoO

´I thought he was gonna draw his gun, Jesus!´ Vilais said, when he was sure the boss couldn't hear them any more.

´Isn't it weird?´ Dilson said, ´Why would he agree to have the Dutch stay at the house instead of us? They're in charge you know. That tall guy, Jan, told me so.´

Capras thought about it and finally came up with a explanation.

´It prevents conflicts between the security staffs.´

´Yeah,´ Vilais agreed, ´and _we_ can sort of relax, while the Dutch have to work. Fine with me.´

Dilson wasn't convinced.

´I think it's weird. I mean, they could protect their Queen and we could protect ours. If there's an attack, they will defend _their_ Queen first won't they? And we will be hundreds of metres away, and it's not as if we can rush to the mansion, with all those trees standing in the way. She brought us with her, and we can't even properly come near her? I mean: the way he looked at us just now? ´

´She didn't want us to come along at first.´

´What do you mean?´

Vilais bounced the ball against a tree, to recollect what he had heard.

´Rebecca, the dress maid, heard Miss Charlotte ask the boss if he had convinced her. The Queen that is. And he had. Convinced H.M. And it meant that the boss didn't have the weekend off. So...must mean that he _did_ have a weekend off at first, _this_ weekend, because he wouldn't come with her. Last Monday it was known that she would go, and it wasn't until Tuesday that the boss told us we were to come along.´

Capras, always trying to see more sides of a story, had his brain work at full speed.

´This is a safe place so having a lot of guards here is not needed. And the stables may be good enough for the horses, it must have been years since people had to sleep there. The Queen probably felt uncomfortable having us here.´

Dilson didn't object. The Queen _did_ take good care of her servants. But Romero wouldn't hesitate to have his men sleep in the open, with temperatures only polar bears could bear, if that was the way to protect Her Majesty. Safety comes first. So why didn't he want them to come near the house? It wasn't as if all Dutch guards were near or in the mansion all the time.

No, he really didn't get it.

OoOoOoO

_If only she's still inside,_ Joe hoped.

He might imagine the Queen of the Netherlands to be understanding, but would she still be if he joined her in the garden to talk to her friend? Royals guarded their privacy.

Joe entered the house. _How long does it take to replace a water-bottle? _

He hurried to the kitchen.

When he opened the door, the kitchen seemed empty.

´I hoped you would come.´

He looked behind the door. She was standing next to a small table, choosing strawberries from a big bowl and placing them in a smaller one.

All strawberries looked fine, there was no reason why she shouldn't just have grabbed a handful to fill the small bowl.

He closed the door.

Five strawberries later:

´Joseph, we were interrupted.´

´I told them to stay away from the hou-.´

Her sigh made him stop talking. Her eyes made him move toward her.

She cupped his cheek again.

´This was about where we had left,´ she initiated.

He didn't hesitate.

´Almost,´ he replied, catching her hand in his and pressing his lips to her palm.

She stepped closer.

He felt her other hand on his shoulder.

She felt his other hand on her waist.

They stared into each others eyes.

He felt her fingers trail up his neck.

She heard him inhale.

They heard singing.

´Piet Hein! Piet Hein! Piet Hein zijn naam is klein! Zijn daden benne groot...´

The singing stopped, and Joe hoped that the earth had opened itself to swallow the General.

She had been so near that the only next step would have been to kiss her, but although she was still close, her shield of Queenly demeanour was back in place.

He had been so near that the only next step would have been to pull his head down. She continued choosing strawberries, feeling every inch a woman.

They heard sneezing and then the singing continued.

´Zijn daden benne groot zijn daden benne groot -´

The door opened.

´Hij heeft gewonnen de zilver-´

The General saw the Genovian Head of Security standing in front of the refrigerator, taking out a water-bottle filled with lemonade.

´Mr Romero. I didn't know you were here.´

Joe made a small gesture with his head. The General followed his gaze.

´Your Majesty! I am sorry. I believed Her Majesty and you yourself were in the garden.´

The Queen nodded.

´Could you bring the lemonade outside Joseph?´

´Off course ma'am.´

The General held the door for the Genovian Queen and her Head of Security.

OoOoOoO

To her great joy, Beatrix saw how Clarisse reached out her hand, seemingly to help Joseph place the heavy water-bottle on the table, but in fact only serving to touch him.

Joseph gallantly removed some fluff from the pillow on his Queen's chair, and happened to touch her shoulder when she seated herself.

´Thank you Joseph,´ Clarisse whispered.

Joseph inclined his head and walked away.

´I wasn't asleep,´ Beatrix whispered.

´B!´

Beatrix raised her eyebrows.

Clarisse gave her a brilliant smile in return.

Beatrix removed her sunglasses.

Clarisse saw the happy look in her friend's eyes. Biting her lip, she took up her book.

´I see you brought the strawberries,´ Beatrix remarked.

The friends had talked about many things that weekend, including intimate subjects, but Beatrix imagined that Clarisse needed time to adjust to her new 'relationship' with Joseph. So she bit her tongue and let her friend glow in her chair.

´What is Petehain?´ Clarisse wanted to know after two glasses of lemonade.

´What?´

Clarisse looked up from her book. ´The General was singing about Petehain.´

´Petehain? Oh! Piet Hein was an admiral. He stole a silver-fleet from the Spanish and naturally he became a hero.´

´Ah,´ Clarisse commented. ´B, would you agree to have a kitchen made in the servants' part of the house?´

´Absolutely.´

´I do hope we will be able to buy this place.´

´So do I. I think we have a good chance with the offer our estate agent made. It has been on the market for four years now and the owner is in a divorce. Apart from that, the fence needs to be replaced and the stables need to be rebuilt. I mean, you really wouldn't want Joseph to sleep there again would you?´

Beatrix looked innocently. Clarisse smiled and threw a strawberry at her friend's head.

OoOoOoO

That evening Beatrix waved Clarisse goodbye. She herself had a conference to attend in Burgos and would stay another night. She sighed when she sat down at a desk to sign documents. It was ever so silent now.

She was glad that she had suggested her friend to buy the place together.

The money was nothing. Clarisse needed a place like this even more than _she_ did though. As lady of the manor, she, Beatrix, could tell Clarisse that she was always welcome to come, even alone, but she knew Clarisse wouldn't feel comfortable doing so. As an owner though, she would, at those rare occasions when her schedule allowed it, feel free to spend time here, especially now that she and Joseph had taken another step in their relationship.

Beatrix picked up a sketch she'd made of her friend and smiled fondly. She couldn't imagine what could go wrong for C and J now.


	6. C stands for caught

Chapter 6 – C stands for caught

On Monday morning nearly every Genovian paper showed a picture on their front page from a series by Xavier Luna.

Genovian Daily, known for its huge head lines, had opted for '**Who's he?**'

The article accompanying the picture strongly suggested that the handsome gentleman standing very close to Her Majesty was her lover.

The respectable New Antiem Times showed a picture of the Queen on horseback, a relaxed smile on her face. The subscript merely said that Her Majesty was enjoying a weekend off. The unknown man on the photo was not mentioned.

OoOoOoO

The pictures were discussed nationwide.

The Genovians in the Castle had more information than their countrymen, but it didn't prevent them from believing their Queen to have an admirer. Hadn't they thought it all along? What else could have caused Her Majesty to be in such a good mood during the past week?

´But didn't she spend the weekend with the Queen of the Netherlands?´ kitchen maid Anna said.

´Yes, she did,´ the housekeeper replied.

´So where does _he_ come in?´

´Maybe the Dutch Queen acted as a chaperone or something.´

´Or she provided an alibi only.´

´Spending the weekend with someone is hardly a crime,´ Mr Jonas replied.

´Didn't say it was! It's just well, he seems quite smitten with her.´

´_H__e_ got out of the car first, you know, last Friday. And if the Head of Security hadn't stopped him, I'm sure he would have stepped right toward _her_,´ a doorman said.

´So you think Mr Romero knows about it?´

´Must be instructed by _her_, to prevent Mystery Man from embracing her.´

´Well,´ Dilson thoughtfully said, an idea forming in his mind, ´_he_ stayed in the mansion. _We_ had to sleep above the stables. The boss too.´

People looked at each other meaningfully.

´He's a handsome man,´ Mrs Danieli agreed with the Daily. She tilted her head the better to study the picture.

´He admires her, you can see that. And he's got something aristocratic.´

´He is checking her figure while she mounts her horse. That's hardly gentleman like,´ Mr Jonas judged.

´Maybe he ain't a gent, but he's a man all right!´ gardener Claude whispered to his colleague Axel. The latter grinned.

OoOoOoO

Financial Times was the only paper that didn't have a Luna on the frontpage, but to compensate for that, they had placed it next to an editorial ('The Queen's man') on page seven.

The members of Parliament were glad for it, for FT was much more dignified to crib from than the Screaming Daily.

They rose when Her Majesty entered.

Fifteen minutes earlier a trembling Charlotte had finally admitted that her employer was right in not believing her story about a problem with the distribution of papers, all papers.

Charlotte had had no choice but to hand the Queen her usual pile of news.

_One_ glance at the first front page had made Her Majesty feel as if she _hadn't_ had the most relaxing weekend in years.

Still, when she entered the House of Parliament, she looked just as lovely as when she'd kissed her friend farewell.

The members of Parliament, who couldn't but notice her appearance, all thought the same.

The first half an hour nothing was said about the subject everyone was thinking about.

When Viscount Mabrey walked toward the speaker's place, the tension built with every one of his steps.

He smiled wolfishly at the Queen and mentioned an item about education that had been on TV on Saturday.

Had Her Majesty seen it?

´You have not?´ he replied when hearing her calm negation. ´Perhaps you were otherwise engaged?´

No coughing, no sneezing. Silence.

´Yes I was Viscount. Pray tell, why do you mention this documentary?´

The Viscount replied that the subject had been the pressure on teachers and that Her Majesty must know from experience how important it was to take a break from time to time.

´I don't have a lot of experience with it Viscount, but you are right. Are you proposing to give teachers more days off?´

´No ma'am, I propose to discuss the break you've had last weekend.´

´Oh? This _is_ the House of Parliament, hardly a place to discuss a holiday.´

´I don't plan to enter _that_ discussion ma'am.´

´So you have a question concerning politics.´

´I have an inquiery to make about the... Body of State. That seems political to me.´

The Queen didn't like the supportive humming that greeted the Viscount's reply.

´It seems quizzical to me.´

´I'll be happy to enlighten you. When a picture of my Queen appears in every paper, a picture of her and a _gentleman,_ I start worrying that perhaps she might forget herself.´

The Viscount's colleagues mumbled. The Queen glanced at the Prime Minister, who was -by the looks of it- arguing with the minister of agriculture.

´I can assure you Mr Mabrey that I have nothing to do with that picture being made.´

´I didn't imply that you had ma'am.´

The Viscount turned around and asked one of his political friends to hand him the Genovian Daily.

The nobleman showed the front page to his fellow Parliamentarians before holding it up for the Queen.

´It is _this_ picture that causes me to worry ma'am. Can you read the head line?´

´I don't need glasses for _that_ Viscount.´

Muffled laughter.

´Did you spend your holiday with this man?´

´No, I did not.´

The Chairman had to silence the members of Parliament.

´You're on a picture with an unknown man and yet you insist you didn't spend the weekend with him.´

The members of Parliament mumbled their appreciation for the Viscount's remark.

The Queen was fuming, if only inwardly.

´Did _you_ spend the weekend alone Viscount?´

´I have.´

´Your servants were having time off?´

´Off course not ma'am.´

´So you were _not_ alone.´

´Oh, I see. The thing is, I never ask my servants to go for a ride with me Your Majesty.´

´Hence you don't believe this man is in my service.´

Before the Viscount could reply, she continued:

´Well, you would be right... He is in the service of a friend of mine.´

´If he would be your own servant it would be even worse, but this is bad enough as it is.´

´Excuse me?´

´Genovia can't allow its Head of State to be on an intimate footing with a mere servant.´

The Chairman had to call for order.

When the noise had returned to an acceptable level, the Chairman addressed the Queen: ´Your Majesty, you have the floor.´

´Thank you Mr Delgando,´ she smiled charmingly, picturing the Viscount to hang upside down from a flying helicopter.

´First, no man or woman is a mere someone.´

Supportive sounds from the socialist and liberal MPs greeted her reply.

´Apart from that, everyone is allowed to choose her or his own friends.´

The Queen noticed that the supportive beating on tables wasn't as loud as it had been. Before she could continue, Mabrey spoke.

´I agree, ma'am. But you use an interesting word.´

The Viscount paused for a dramatic second and continued: ´_Friends_. If this man would be your friend, though a servant he _might_ be a good horseman, he surely seems to appreciate _your_ riding skills - ´

Overruling responses Mabrey spoke louder: ´- and thus earn your sympathy, I could not object. But would Genovian Daily have asked _Who's he?_ in that case?´

´I do not know Viscount, I don't have shares in papers.´

´What do you mean, ma'am?´

´Just what I say. I can't influence the contents of newspapers. Viscount.´

The Viscount glared at his liege.

´You _can_ influence the next head line though. By answering the question: Who is he?´

´I am not going to answer that question,´ the Queen started. Her reply was met with loud exclamations and she raised her voice:´After all it is none of anyones business with whom I spend my time.´

´Ma'am, it _is_!´ the Viscount bellowed.

The Chairman had to intervene again. When it was more or less quiet, Mabrey bent toward the microphone and softly spoke into it.

´You ma'am, are the Queen of this country, allowed by the late King Rupert -´

The politicians added the obligatory _may he rest in peace_.

Mabrey inwardly smiled. All against one. He'd get her!

´ – and Parliament to rule Genovia. And so far your behaviour has been exemplary.´

The members of Parliament expressed their support. The Queen was too fixed on what Mabrey would come up with to appreciate it, although she smiled her thanks to the sheep in front of her. The Viscount believed his colleagues were exaggerating.

´However, you will understand ma'am, that Parliament will keep a keen eye on your personal life. After all, you are – if I may - _merely_ a Queen Regent.´

The Chairman had to use his hammer. The Viscount realised that his peers thought he had gone too far. Her Majesty's sweet face didn't give away a thing.

´We can not allow a commoner to get involved with Genovia and our proud country's politics, because _you_ believe it is proper to have someone... close to you. We all know -´

He looked around, smiling genially to his brotherhood of Parliamentarians.

´- gentlemen, that our partners long to influence the way we think - ´

He stopped, his smile plastered on his face, giving the men time to laugh. They obliged, a bit nervous perhaps, but pleased with Mabrey's newly found light tone.

The Queen was glad he'd used the word partners, for earlier he had deprived her of commenting his phrase 'intimate footing'.

´Standing _near_ someone doesn't imply a partnership Viscount, I really must object to your choice of words.´

´I see Your Majesty. I will be more precise: is this man your lo- beloved?´

Dead drop silence.

´Mr Chairman,´ the Queen addressed Mr Delgando, with ice in her voice, ´pray remind the Viscount that this is the House of Parliament, not Show News.´

Before Mabrey could object, the Chairman did the Queen's bidding.

The Prime Minister requested an intermission. His wish was granted and he asked the Queen for a few minutes alone with her.

She gestured toward an ante room, knowing every eye was on her.

OoOoOoO

´Ma'am. I am sorry for this. And for not being able to talk to you earlier, I only arrived here this morning from Toronto.´

The Queen waved her hand.

Mr Motaz swallowed.

´The MPs will demand answers Your Majesty.´

´Do you agree with me that it is _my_ business with whom I spend time?´

´I do Your Majesty.´

´Good. So the Members of Parliament might _want_ answers, they will not _get_ them.´

´Ma'am, your refusal to provide information will only fuel the idea that the man on the photos is your... special friend.´

Queen Clarisse had been a Queen for as long as Motaz could remember. Having to question her about a picture shot by some local photographer, while she was enjoying a well deserved holiday, didn't sit well with him. The Queen having a lover... The point was, he couldn't blame people for thinking she had one. She seemed to glow from the inside. The pictures had finally made him acknowlegde to himself that Her Majesty was an attractive woman. And she was no longer protected from gossip by her wedding ring.

The Queen was reminded of someone else using the words _special friend_. She didn't agree with the Parliamentarians who objected to her having a private life, but she was not naive. If she replied now, today's paper could be a paper tiger tomorrow.

´I have a suggestion,´ the Queen told him, ´I will go back to the arena, give Mabrey his answer and demand his apologies. And _you_ will back me on that if need be instead of just sitting there like you did before!´

The Prime Minister nodded. He was more ashamed of himself for not having supported his Queen than she was disappointed in his behaviour. She had other things to consider than her Prime Minister being speechless.

The Queen dialed a number on her mobile phone.

´B, it's a quarter to ten. Mabrey wants a name. Tell the General I am sorry for having to bring him into the open. Call me will you?´

She broke the connection and dropped the phone in her bag.

´Let's get on with it,´ she said.

OoOoOoO

The MPs saw the Queen return, looking as cool as she had when she had left. The Prime Minister however was red-faced.

The Viscount opened the next bout.

´Ma'am. I have asked you a question that remains to be answered.´

´I told you that I would _not_ answer your question...´

She raised her hand to silence the gentlemen. To Mabrey's dismay it worked.

´... but I feel you will not let go of the subject and since _I_ prefer to discuss _politics_ in the House of Parliament, I will give a short reply to your uncalled-for remark: no.´

Mabrey only cared for the negation. He smiled: ´It would be interesting to know the name of this man you claim not to be what he seems to be.´

The gentlemen behind him remained silent.

´It really is upsetting that these pictures, combined with a few suggestive lines...´

She let her glacial gaze sweep over the Parliamentarians, ´... and vivid imaginations...´

Nearly every member of Parliament felt as if she looked at him personally.

´...have caused all this. I am sorry that the gentleman on the photos, who is the Head of the Military House of Her Majesty the Queen of the Netherlands...´

The Queen looked at her Prime Minister when revealing: ´_she_ is the friend I spent my weekend with by the by...´

Addressing the honourable MP on the speaker's stand again, she continued: ´has to go through this. But then, he is a soldier, used to worse.´

The Queen's calm respons, the coldness in her voice and the impressive title of the female friend she had spent her weekend with, all indicated that thank goodness, the man on the pictures merely was a walking gentleman to her.

Relieved laughter greeted Her Majesty's reply. The Viscount stood unsmiling.

´Now, Mr Chairman, I believe Viscount Mabrey ran out off time.´

The Chairman confirmed this.

´I _will_ however allow him a moment to make his apologies.´

Silence.

´Mr Mabrey,´ the Prime Minister spoke, ´I believe that an excuse is in order.´

When even Mabrey's political friends cried out: ´Hear! Hear!´, the Viscount had no choice.

He received the smallest of nods from Her Majesty in reply to his insincere apologies.


	7. The secret life of Queen C

Chapter 7 – The secret life of Queen C

Parliament's session had been accessible neither for the press, nor for citizens.

It was custom that forty five minutes after the end of a so called _private session_, the Prime Minister and the Chairman of Parliament, and sometimes even the Head of State, answered questions from journalists.

This gave Viscount Mabrey time to do damage. He made a phone call.

OoOoOoO

´This is radio 4U's Lucien's Fiddlesticks, with Lucien Dubois. It's Monday, not the best day of the week, but my my, didn't we get some nice pictures to brighten our day? You want to say something about them? You know the number folks!´

When 'Three times a lady' faded away, the host introduced Carolina from Antiem, who seemed to quote from Genovian Daily, saying how handsome a couple the Queen and Mystery Man made.

Roland from Arles sur Mer said something similar and Sylvie from Pyrus said how romantic it all was. Marcos, a resident of Lupa, told his countrymen that the Queen surely deserved to have some fun.

The Bee Gees filled the air with 'More than a woman'.

Then the show really started.

Lucien: Now who do we have here?

Caller: Why, we know each other Lucien. It is I, Elsie Penworthy!

OoOoOoO

In his office in the Castle, Mr Delgana, the spokesman of the Royal House, cursed. He grabbed his writing-block and a pen to take down Elsie's slander in shorthand.

OoOoOoO

Lucien: Elsie, what an unexpected pleasure to have you call me.

Elsie: I don't normally do this, but I heard you were talking about those pictures of Her Majesty and a mysterious man, well Lucien, I just had to tell you that I, Elsie Penworthy, think those pictures are _beautiful_. If only because the Queen really looks great in riding gear.

Lucien: Indeed she does. But that's not the only thing, is it Elsie? Tell me girl!

Elsie: Well, I know more about the gentleman in Queen Clarisse's company.

Lucien: You do? Shoot!

Elsie: The man is a foreigner!

Lucien: Spanish?

Elsie: Nooooooo.

Lucien: French?

Elsie: Not French...

Lucien: Elsie, do you know how many countries there are? Tell me!

Elsie: He is Dutch.

Lucien: A Dutch treat!

Elsie: Haha. Well, he surely looks like a treat. I wouldn't mind going _riding_ with him.

Lucien: Elsie! You naughty you.

OoOoOoO

Viscount Mabrey grinned. He could always rely on Elsie. He stared at the papers on his desk. _He_ had not been able to make the Ice Queen melt, but Elsie might very well accomplish it. If only he were a fly on the wall of Her Majesty's office...

OoOoOoO

Elsie: (...) and I also know he's tough.

Lucien: Oh?

Elsie: Yeah, some women like that.

OoOoOoO

Charlotte, who had to strain her ears, for she dared not increase the volume of her radio, moaned. This was horrible! She very much wished that Her Majesty wasn't listening to radio 4U.

OoOoOoO

Elsie: (...) army officer. And that's all I know.

Lucien: _All?_ Elsie, you seem to have revealed everything there is to know about this not so mysterious man! Why, I think you'll even be able to tell me what his favourite colour is!

Elsie: From the way he stared in the Queen's eyes I would say it is blue.

Lucien: Hahaha.

OoOoOoO

Joe glared at the radio in the security room. He knew there was nothing going on between his Queen and the General. They had just been standing together, and he had heard them chatting about horses. The General had sounded to be a good judge of the noble animals.

Pictures are made in a split second.

He could hardly blame Ben Coligny that a passing glance now seemed so much more. For he may have talked about fine horses, on the pictures the connoisseur only had eyes for the Queen.

He could hardly blame the General for the pictures being made. But he hoped Queen Beatrix would give the Head of her Military House a tongue-lashing. Something told him she'd be good at it.

OoOoOoO

Elsie: (...) people of Genovia are just _dying_ to know who managed to get so... near... Her Majesty. It was my duty to tell them. Lucien dear, I need to get back to work. Success with your show!

Lucien: Thank you Elsie.

OoOoOoO

The Viscount laughed aloud. Thank you indeed! "I need to get back to work." Capital!

OoOoOoO

As the song 'Hungry eyes' filled the kitchen, the cook shook her head.

´Oh! That woman is horrible!´ she said with disgust.

´She makes it seem so ugly. Bah!´

The Queen's other servants agreed. True, the idea of their employer having an admirer, had pleased them all. But that was all the man should be. Becoming her lover was way out of line. Watch, don't touch.

The way that horrid Elsie described it, made it sound cheap. And cheap was a description that did NOT fit Her Majesty.

´There are thousands of pictures of the Queen and some or other man,´ the cook told her colleagues. ´I really don't understand how those callers can think that this particular man is more than a someone.´

´Yes,´ Capras replied, anxious to explain things. ´The General's horse happened to be ready at the same time as Her Majesty's animal. And they went outside. That's all it is. I mean, if _I_ had been on that picture, would you have believed that I was her...´ He blushed.

The cook laughed: ´No sweetie, I would sooner believe the Pope to be a female drug lord!´

OoOoOoO

Her Majesty had summoned Mr Delgana, Mr Jonas and the Prime Minister. She quickly came to the point.

´We can argue about which member of Parliament informed Miss Penworthy, but there is hardly a point in that and certainly no time for it. Prime Minister, you will have to face the press. They will question you about the pictures. What do you plan to say?´

Mr Motaz cleared his throat.

´Her Majesty spent the weekend with Her Majesty the Queen of the Netherlands. The gentleman on the pictures is the Head of the Military House of the Queen of the Netherlands, who accompanied Queen Beatrix on her trip to Paris last week and to Burgos this week and who naturally stayed with her during the weekend.´

´What?´

´Ma'am?´

´The General is in Her Majesty's employment. Her taking him with her suggests that he is on duty. There is no need to explain his presence. Do _not_ mention it.´

´Yes Your Majesty. If I may?´

The Queen raised an eyebrow.

´Perhaps it is a good idea for you to come as well?´

´_Absolutely not_. Let us not give it more attention than it deserves.´

Mr Motaz, feeling very stupid, nodded.

´I am sorry ma'am.´

´Mr Delgana, I would like you to be present in a ante-room when the press are interviewing the Prime Minister and Mr Delgando. Please come to my office at five o'clock, to inform me about the coverage of this subject.´

´Yes ma'am.´

´I also want you to pass all articles about it to Mr Jonas. Mr Jonas, I need you to inform me once we might have a law case.´

´Understood Your Majesty.´

OoOoOoO

Joe watched the three gentlemen leave the Queen's office on a monitor in the security room. He wasn't surprised that she had talked with them. His Queen taking control was a matter of course. But when she finally asked _him_ to come to her office, he also found the Colonel there.

As they were discussing the arrangements for the opening night of a play Her Majesty would attend that evening, Joe, forgetting that it wouldn't be the first time for the Colonel to accompany the Queen to a play, being a theatre-goer, unlike Charlotte, who preferred ballet, figured that Colonel Frerer acted as a chaperone.

No more friendly private conversations.

No more smiles.

No more cupping cheeks.

He would have to cherish the feeling of her fingers on his neck, for it was all he'd ever get.

Before yesterday, he'd never expected her to initiate that much physical contact. But from the moment she'd touched the back of his neck, he had reason to think that all his lusty dreams would come true.

When travelling back to Pyrus, Joe had pictured how they would continue. He knew that he should and could leave taking the next step to her.

They would arrive late in the evening, near midnight. He would escort her to her suite. She would say: _Joseph, we were interrupted_. Cheek cupped, hand on shoulder, hand on waist, stand closely. Soft lips. First kiss. Long, sweet.

He had told himself that she might be tired, and that the Castle was not El chalet.

No, the Castle was not El chalet.

Before entering her suite, the Queen had turned around to give him a warm smile, but she had only caressed him with her eyes.

´Goodnight Joseph.´

´Goodnight Your Majesty.´

_The Castle is not El chalet. _

He could wait. How long ago was it that had he first realised she was everything a woman should be? And more? After all this time, he'd almost got a kiss, which had left him more happy than frustrated.

After Parliament's session he'd become afraid.

_If he would be your own servant it would be even worse_. Mabrey's words refused to leave his mind. He had waited in a corridor, listening to what was going on in the House of Parliament via a speaker. _What if she starts to think that the Viscount is right?_

´Joseph?´ Her voice broke in on his thoughts. She sounded impatient.

´I'm sorry ma'am...´

´I want enough guards to provide a wall against the press if need be.´

He nodded and cleared his throat. ´Yes ma'am. I will see to it.´

OoOoOoO

The air was sizzling with anticipation.

The story was just too good. Most journalists didn't really believe the Queen to have an affair. After all, didn't the nickname Ice Queen say it all?

But still...

´She _does_ look fine in riding gear,´ someone remarked.

´Oh yeah. The General surely thought so.´

´I doubt he stands a chance.´

´Who knows. Maybe she's not frigid after all.´

´You are sexist pigs,´ a female reporter commented.

The men were about to answer her, when limousines rounded the corner.

The journalists were ready for the Queen's arrival. A picture of Her Majesty on the front page always sold more papers and a story about the Queen being in a romantic mood sold many more copies, so today's sales figures had proved.

The Genovians cheered when the left door of the Queen's car opened.

The Prime Minister stepped out. He walked to the right door of the car and gallantly helped the Queen out. The volume of the cheering increased.

Flash lights.

Her Majesty smiled at her subjects.

´Her Majesty is wearing a Greek style long black dress,´ a radio reporter told his listeners. ´No jewellery I think, but she looks radiant anyway.´

´No hickeys, but she looks hot anyway,´ another reporter joked for the benefit of his peers.

The Queen waved at her people and ascended the stairs.

´What are those bloody guards doing there? Can't even get a decent picture!´ Mr Hickey complained. ´And Fatty Motaz isn't helping! Ma'am! Your Majesty! This way please!´

His request was the start: one question after the other was fired at the Queen, though none had to do with present pictures being made.

Her Majesty heard every remark and ignored all of them (´Is there really nothing going on between you and Ben?´,´Will you see him again?´), only responding to Mr Ramsey from the Pyran Courier, who politely asked her if she looked forward to seeing 'Maria Stuart' by the Royal Genovian Playhouse.

´Very much Mr Ramsey,´ she kindly replied, ´I am glad that this esteemed company managed to survive for three hundred years already and can celebrate this in their beautifully restored theatre.´

OoOoOoO

The people inside the theatre were just as curious as the reporters, but they were not at liberty to shout questions at their regal Queen.

Had many been imaginative enough to picture her on very friendly terms with a man, looking at her now, it seemed that if ever the stork had delivered children, it would have been the princes Pierre and Philippe.

The Queen having a lover? Seriously! She looked as untouchable as a statue.

Joe accompanied Her Majesty to her box. Knowing everyone was watching her even more closely than normally, he felt it wouldn't be smart to place his hand against the low of her back when guiding her through the crowd. Much as he loved the feeling of her body under his hand.

The Queen missed his touch. She knew it was for the best, for even her Head of Security being near her might cause new gossip. She hoped Joseph thought likewise, but she feared that he was upset with her.

After the – excellent- performance Joe watched the Queen talk to the actors and director.

He could still feel her fingers on his neck. But he couldn't imagine her to do that again any day soon. In fact, looking at her now, it seemed as if he had imagined it all. And he _knew_ he hadn't. He could only hope that the gossip would soon die away. _If he would be your own servant it would be even worse_.

Viscount Mabrey, who was in the RGP's board of recommendation, had his back to the Queen, for he could not bare to look at the blonde bitch who'd gotten the upper hand in his playground.

Little could he know that he _had_ affected her: she could not forget what he had said. _If he would be your own servant it would be even worse_.


	8. C stands for cogitation

Chapter 8 – C stands for cogitation

´Do you know you've made it to Hello, OK and Paris Match?´ prince Philippe asked his mother.

´That makes my day darling,´ the Queen replied. She had put her son on the phone's speaker, for she had signing to do.

´Do you realise this is the first time that people speculate about _you_ having an affair, instead of me?´

The Queen could tell that her son was smirking.

´So Mother, did you have a nice time with the _handsome General with whom you make such an attractive couple_?´

´The Genovian Daily is not your newspaper darling.´

´I know, but I couldn't resist citing that line. Did the Members of Parliament mention the pictures?´

´The Viscount did. He went as far as asking me whether the man on the pictures was my, and I quote, "lo- beloved".´

´Bastard.´

´I am not going to tosh you for that.´

´Was it _that_ bad?´

´I felt insulted. Mabrey implied that should I have a _partner_, I would let _him_ run the country.´

The prince laughed out loud.

The Queen glanced at the picture Beatrix had made of the two of them, while holding her camera at arm's length.

´Do you laugh at the idea that I would let someone else run my country, or do you laugh at the thought of me having a partner?´

´Both Mother.´

The Queen put her pen down.

´I mean, how dare he even suggest it?´ her son continued. ´How was aunt B doing?´

The Queen realised she would not only have to work the Members of Parliament, but her youngest son, and possibly Pierre too, as well.

She didn't comment the change of subject and, picking up her pen, told Philippe that her friend was fine and that she and herself had bought the Spanish mansion.

OoOoOoO

It had been a fortnight since they had returned from Spain and Joe kept telling himself that it happened more often that weeks passed without her speaking, really _speaking_, to him.

She was the Queen, he was her Head of Security and there was work to be done.

But after what happened in El chalet, after what was said by the Viscount, after the articles and after Genovian Daily's 'From our readers' pages having been filled with letters about whether or not the Dutch General was a _friend_ of Her Majesty, and whether or not is was appropriate for King Rupert's widow to have a _friend_, he, Joe, would very much have liked the woman who had cupped his cheek and sent shivers down his spine when she'd touched his neck, to have talked to him like a friend.

Just a friend.

_If he would be your own servant it would be even worse_.

OoOoOoO

After the pictures had been published Her Majesty had acted the Ice Queen in the presence of the press. Even toward her closest courtiers and especially toward Joseph, she had been distant, knowing she was being watched.

At least – and at last- it worked: the eager journalists had to admit that hers was not the attitude of a woman in love.

When even Miss Penworthy had moved on (focussing on a popular soap star who'd adopted a Russian orphan), the Queen had relaxed and she had re-entered her habit of taking a walk in her gardens when Joseph was guarding her.

During one of their walks, she made a remark about the lunch-meetings with Members of Parliament she had initiated.

´It will be impossible to ignore the Viscount,´ she said, ´even though I already know how he feels about certain subjects, and I dislike repetition as much as I dislike my appetite being ruined.´

Joe dared not ask the Queen why she had started to invite the Parliamentarians, for she never discussed politics with him. He made a mental note to talk to Charlotte.

Her Majesty didn't know how to continue the subject, for Joseph merely nodded without looking at her. She decided it was time to get back to work.

OoOoOoO

Charlotte eagerly accepted Joe's invitation to go to 'Clementine', an art-house cinema in Pyrus.

Afterwards they had a drink in ¿ya le atienden?, a grand café in art deco style.

Joe explained that the Kung Fu scenes in the Japanese film they'd just seen were very good. Charlotte shrugged and said she thought it was weird that each time the hero fought someone, it started to snow.

The owner of the café was a proud monarchist and a portrait of the Queen and the late King graced one of the walls of the establishment. Joe had made sure that Charlotte was facing it. The portrait triggered her to introduce a topic that she knew would arouse Joe's interest even more than the significance of white flakes falling.

´I am glad she is more relaxed now,´ Charlotte said, making a gesture toward the portrait. Joe politely followed her gaze.

´The whole Luna affair must have upset her more than she cared to admit,´ Charlotte continued, ´she didn't even raise an eyebrow when she first saw the pictures, but after the meeting with Parliament...´

Charlotte, seeing a warmth in Joe's eyes that was always present when they talked about their employer, bent toward him.

´And now she is inviting the MPs for lunch. I had to bring her the files of every one of them and she spent hours making groups.´

Joe had expected Charlotte to have dealt with the details.

´Is there an agenda?´ Joe asked.

´Not that I know. I think she just wants to talk to them in a less formal setting. I think that her friend, you know, who invites _her_ MPs to discuss topical subjects, gave her the idea, but the cook -.´

´So she didn't tell you why she wants to talk to them?´

´The cook guesses that she wants to make it absolutely clear...´ Charlotte looked around and, confident that no one was eavesdropping, continued in a whisper, ´that the General wasn't a _friend_. And that something like Genovian Daily suggested will never happen.´

Joe didn't like the idea for several reasons, one of which he mentioned aloud: ´It has already been made clear that Coligny was a bystander. The MPs should trust her. I doubt she feels she has to reassure them again.´

Charlotte shrugged.

OoOoOoO

Meanwhile the Queen was on the phone with her Dutch friend, telling her about the four men she would invite to accompany Mabrey.

´Three conservatives, a liberal and a socialist,´ Beatrix summarised. ´Don't you think you'll be outnumbered?´

´No, I don't. Jalva likes me. Picard hates the Eel. Moreover, his heir married a flower-girl and he is perfectly happy with his daughter-in-law. Chirac supported me in Parliament when I said that everyone should be able to choose his own friends. And Sortof was a poor foreigner when he married the daughter of the mayor of Lupa.´

Beatrix hummed approvingly: ´So there might be fish on the menu: bon appetit!´

Clarisse laughed.

´Is there any progress at the estate?´

´The workmen are on schedule,´ Beatrix replied, ´and we should be able to spend the first weekend of September there, just as we planned.´

´That would be lovely.´

OoOoOoO

A few days later, during a walk in her gardens, the Queen told her Head of Security that she and her sons had discussed something the host of TV's Show News had said: that she was incapable of loving.

´I know I acted the Ice Queen, but that remark was insulting.´

´It was,´ Joe confirmed and he gave her a warm smile. ´How did Their Highnesses respond?´ he inquired.

´They both assured me they felt very much loved by me and that they knew that I had loved their father.´

Joe nodded.

´But Philippe still laughed at the thought of me having feelings for another man,´ the Queen said, ´so there is work to be done.´

She said it casually, not looking at him, but her words erased the Viscount's line from Joe's memory.

OoOoOoO

The Queen knew that the Members of Parliament had agreed when the Viscount had said "If he would be your own servant it would be even worse".

She knew that in the eyes of her people that was all Joseph would be: a servant. Not a shoe-polishing, plate-carrying kind of servant. A servant with a gun. But a servant nonetheless. They didn't know that he was caring, loving, witty, intelligent, protective and discreet. They would never know that his nearness made her skin tickle. And that he made her feel alive. Feminine. Sensual. Cherished.

Beatrix had been right when she'd said that she, Clarisse, had loved her husband. Rupert had been kind, generous and supportive to her. He had also been a loving father. She missed him. She had been his Queen, the mother of his sons and his best friend. She had been content with that. But now... She had thought about it for weeks.

She wanted more. And since the weekend at El chalet, she no longer felt guilty about it. She had made up her mind. She wanted to be a lover. She wanted to be loved. She wanted passionate nights. She wanted Joseph. And if she wanted something, she got it.


	9. C and J

Author's note: This is the final chapter of 'The weekenders'. It ends romantically, with a promise of what will be.

After having finished reading all nine chapters perhaps you'd like to leave a review? I'll very much appreciate it.

Chapter 9 – C and J

The Queen watched Joseph, who studied the floor maps of the stables and the garage. He seemed impressed with the improvements. Not that she believed he cared for the new bathrooms in both buildings, or for the neat kitchen that was made in the stables.

His unconsciously made nods approved of the monitor room above the stables and of the number of cameras keeping an eye on the wall surrounding the estate.

The stables could house five servants, divided over three rooms. An attic had been made in the garage to accommodate up to ten.

´I think,´ Joe said, ´that I will claim the single bed bedroom above the stables.´

´Have you seen everything on these maps Joseph?´

He nodded. The Queen folded the maps.

´Her Majesty will have _one_ guard at the mansion, and I think it will be best if you stay there also.´

The Queen unfolded the mansion's floor maps.

Joe cleared his throat and asked her which room was hers. She showed it to him: it was the room where she had slept before.

Joe asked her where he was to stay.

´Let's see,´ she softly said, ´where is it...´

She checked the floor maps and bent a little over her desk to point at the map of the third floor.

Joe calculated how long it would take to reach her suite in case of danger.

He'd have to run down the corridor, open the door, go down the stairs, open another door and rush into the second floor corridor. Her room was the last one on the right. The fourth door. Thirty two seconds at most. He would check it to be sure.

´Is everything all right Joseph?´

´Yes ma'am. ´

´Good. For I wouldn't like having to give up my suite because of security risks,´ she smiled.

Looking at the map again, she added: ´It is lovely, a sitting room with a big fireplace and a bedroom in a tower.´

The fact that his Queen, with all her riches, could be enthusiastic about a suite that was small compared to the one she had in her majestic Castle, made Joe smile.

He rested his right hand on the desk and his left on the back of her chair to study her rooms again. The rooms she liked so much.

Joe now noticed that the tower included a small winding staircase. It was right above her nail. He checked the other maps. The stairs didn't go down. Good. They did go up. To his room.

´We had a nice time there,´ the Queen mused.

She looked over her right shoulder. From the look on Joseph's face she concluded he had found out about the winding staircase.

While the Queen chatted about the roses she and her friend planned to grow, Joseph's mind started to drift.

In case of danger, it might be of vital importance that the door at the bottom of the winding staircase opened without a sound.

When she and her friend would explore their property, he would check the door.

He could move as silent as a samurai: even if she was a light sleeper, she'd never hear him.

_No! Seeking into her room to stare at her! It's ungentlemanly and not at all professional!_

He stood straight, to make the distance between him and the luring lady to his left a little bit bigger. Not that her perfume couldn't make its way to his nostrils. At least her lovely refined voice wouldn't enter his ears when she was asleep.

He wanted her. In real life he settled for a smile, a caress, an almost kiss. But in his dreams...

´Joseph?´

He grinned. It made his Queen smile.

´What is it?´ she asked.

He could hardly tell her that in his dreams his name from her mouth came out quite differently.

´I think that roses would look good there Your Majesty.´

She _had_ been talking about roses, but the subject had been the florescence of varieties, not where to plant the rose-bushes. She couldn't resist teasing him.

´In the swimming pool?´ she asked, raising her eyebrows.

He stared at her as if he was caught at something forbidden.

She threw her head backwards and laughed.

Joseph caressed her neck with his eyes, his hands safely behind his back.

She rose and stepped toward him, still smiling.

´I really look forward to the weekend,´ she told him. ´But I've kept you here too long, my talk about roses doesn't interest you. Well, your forte is security, not flowers, so as long as you are satisfied with the room arrangements, it's fine with me.´  
She cupped his check and smiled at him. It reminded him of the smile she'd given him in front of El chalet.

The Queen seated herself again, folding the floor maps to clear her desk, which he considered to be his cue to leave.

As he walked to his office, he thought about what she'd said. _As long as you are __**satisfied**_ _with the room arrangements... No Joe, that was a perfectly innocent remark: as long as you are satisfied with the room arrangements, __**it's fine with me**__. _

_She's never neglectful when it comes to security. She simply checked if you were satis- if you were fine with the arrangements. Her eyes sparkled because she's looking forward to the weekend. _

_Don't get carried away._

OoOoOoO

The Queen unfolded the maps again.

_I want to kiss him. And I will, at El chalet. _

She hadn't kissed him yet.

Afraid someone would enter.

Afraid they wouldn't be in a blind spot of one of the many cameras.

She wanted Joseph.

But she didn't want the world to know, for she couldn't bare to lose him.

El chalet was a blessing.

There were no servants and no cameras inside the mansion.

Of course B would be there. Dear B who noticed everything.

Her friend wouldn't mind if she would invite Joseph to come to their sitting room to have a drink or so. But what if B would be in a teasing mood? Could she deal with so much as B winking at her?

No, she would ask Joseph to join her for a late night drink in her suite.

Perfectly innocent.

In her sitting room.

She dreamingly touched her collar bone.

She would say: we were interrupted. And then she'd cup his cheek and pull his head down. First kiss. Long, passionate.

Step by step.

OoOoOoO

In the Royal Palace in the Netherlands, princess Emma entered the Queen's office.

Her mother was making a phone call.

´I'll bring champagne C, so we can open the mansion in style. I trust _you_ will prepare a little speech too?´

Emma heared her aunt's warm rich laughter and she smiled.

´Yes, it will be just perfect,´ the Queen replied to a remark her friend had made, ´so we'll see each other on Friday.´

Princess Emma stopped staring at her mother's parrot.

´I'm looking forward to it also. Bye C!´

´Friday?´ Emma said after the connection was broken. ´You told me that you would arrive at El chalet on Saturday.´

´I will.´

´But you just told aunt Clarisse you'd meet her on Friday.´

´I know.´

´So?´

´She and her Joseph need time alone. I told her that I will have one of the guards stay at the mansion, so she could feel free to house Joseph there also.´

Emma, shaking her head, grinned.

´On Friday, when I am sure she has arrived, I will contact her, saying that my secretary neglected to inform her aid that unfortunately I can't make it until Saturday. I will be _ever_ so sorry...´

´You devil!´ Emma said approvingly.

´_Devil, devil_...´ Beatrix replied, ´I'd rather say Cupid.´

OoOoOoO

A knock on the door of the Queen's office announced Prime Minister Motaz's arrival.

The Queen rose to greet him.

´I appreciate it that you are sacrificing your evening,´ she told him.

´Since this time is more convenient for you than Friday afternoon, it's my pleasure to meet you now Your Majesty.´

The Queen smiled.

´I can leave for Spain without fear,´ she said, gesturing toward the evening paper.

´Even the Pyran Courier believes that the intended removal of that horrid TV game show is worth mentioning on the front page. It might indicate that Genovia is a quiet, peaceful country.´

Mr Motaz smiled: ´Many people like _The five letter show_, ma'am.´

´And that frightens me Sebastian.´

The Prime Minister laughed.

´You will meet the Queen of the Netherlands again I believe?´

The Queen nodded, an amused smile on her face. She knew what he really wanted to ask her.

He knew that she knew and he turned red. Fortunately for him, his liege was in a good mood.

´Her Majesty does not have appointments in the area this time, if we leave out of consideration the opening of the mansion.´

The Prime Minister laughed gratefully. From the Queen's diplomatic reply, he deduced that the Dutch Queen would not be accompanied by General Coligny.

It was almost 10:00 pm when Mr Motaz left Her Majesty's office. The next hour and a half she read files, to make up for the time she would lose during the weekend.

It wasn't the first time she did so this week. But today she had promissed herself a treat: at 11:30 pm she put aside the files and unfolded the floor map of the mansion's second floor.

In December she had a weekend without appointments and she had instructed her aid to make sure it remained free. She was quite confident that her friend wouldn't want to spend those days at the mansion, for it was the first weekend of the month, so B would be celebrating _Sinterklaas_ then. In The Hague.

In December, with no one observing them and no one hearing them, she would take the _next_ step.

She trailed a finger over the map to her four-poster bed.

´Here,´ she whispered.

Her finger moved to the window-seat.

´Here.´

To the shower.

´Here.´

She tapped her index finger on a spot on the map. And t_his is where we will start. I will say: don't you think this is a perfect place... and then I will touch his lips with mine and add: to make love?_

_Or... I will whisper in his ear, and after 'perfect place', I will nibble his earlobe. The one with the ring. And _then _I´ll finish my line._

She smiled naughtily.

_What if we kiss, and I trail my fingers up and down his neck, and I say ˝I haven't taken care of _certain _protection. But I feel perfectly safe with you.˝_

Her eyes sparkled.

_He will not believe his ears, but he'll understand what I am referring to... _

_And he will look at me wide-eyed, surprised to hear me say that._

She thoughtfully bit her lower lip_. I'd better use the first option. If I use another he will think that I am drunk and he wouldn't want to take advantage of the situation then._

_And we wouldn't want _that_, now would we?_

She covered her mouth with a hand, aware of the guard outside her office. Her shoulders jolted from repressed laughter. After wiping her tears, she sighed and switched off her desk lamp.

First things first.

The coming weekend she could kiss him. Finally.

And when the two of them would be all alone, three long months from now, she would have Joseph right in front of the burning fireplace.


End file.
